Finding Maya
by HopefulEVOLution
Summary: Twelve years ago, Maya Hart fell into a coma at the age of eighteen. Twelve years later, she woke up thinking she is still eighteen. How would she react with the changes in her life? Or about the others moving on with their lives without her?
1. Prologue

A/N: I do not own Girl Meets World, the characters, the locations, the songs or quotes mentioned in this story. But I do own the plot.

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 _When people you've loved all of your life suddenly decide to leave? Well, you sit by yourself for a while and you'll try to figure it out. And you'll blame yourself. But it isn't your fault. You probably won't believe that, though, and you'll think you did something wrong, but... you didn't. It isn't your fault. And most of all, you stay with your best friend. People make their own decisions. And sometimes, they decide to go away for a while. Sometimes, it takes time to understand why. It isn't your fault._

\- Maya Penelope Hart; Girl Meets High School Part 1

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 _I see you on the blue skies_

 _I need a little sunshine_

 _I fill into your brown eyes_

 _Told you I was your light_

 _No, I don't wanna talk about it_

 _I don't wanna listen all that much_

 _Is is falling apart?_

 _I don't wanna talk about it_

 _I just wanna hold your hand_

\- Your Soul; Rhodes

* * *

 **Prologue**

It started with my fingers.

Then with my toes.

And slowly the sensation was crawling up on my arms.

I could hear chatter surfing around me. More like light murmurs. I could tell what they were saying nor could I tell who they were. But I could sense a dreading emotion coming from them. Their slurred words leaked grief. An ounce of anguish. And I couldn't tell why.

Soon I could feel my eyes tingling before they started to flutter open and I was blinded by a beaming white light.

I also noticed that I couldn't breathe. There was something lodged in my throat, right down the path into my trachea. I immediately started to panic; I thrashed my arms around only to find that I could only move one of them and the other is being held down by some kind of wire. I used my other hand to quickly go to my mouth and began to pull on the tube, I find out, that was suffocating me.

"Dr. Miller! The patient!" a female yelped frantically.

I felt multiple hands grab onto my arms, pinning me down into a lumpy surface - a bed of some sort? - and the same voices from before were firing order left and right as I struggled against their grasps and to get some air. I couldn't see anything but the white light above me and my jitters were getting worse. I tried to scream but the tube in my throat made it sound like a loud mumble.

Then another hand rested on my forehead and a silhouette loomed over me, covering me from the shine. I couldn't see their face yet the sight of this person made my frenzied state calm down a little bit.

"Ms. Hart, I need you to remain calm," said a male's voice, the tone sincere and kind. "I'm going to pull the tube out but I need you to stay still or it will get stuck. Just close your eyes and it'll be out in no time."

I wasn't sure what made me comply but I did. I forced my eyes shut and held my breath. I tried to not feel it as this man, this doctor supposedly, slowly dragged the tube out of my throat, the sensation both uncomfortable and unnerving, until it finally popped out of my mouth and I gasped in a large breath of air. The relief of having cool oxygen filling up my lungs and to sense my chest able to move again was a feeling I couldn't describe. It was like a block had been lifted off of my chest - a fire had been ignited within me - or it was like a bucket of ice-cold water had been drenched all over me and woke me up from a thousand years sleep.

The hands didn't release me until my breathing was even. I was a little lightheaded while I breathed. I didn't feel any of my weight so I can imagine I look like a dead fish lying on this bed. My face did feel heavy though with all of the beads of sweat I got from my small episode and the mild headache throbbing against my skull. Aside from that, I never felt more alive.

That is I did until I started a coughing fit and was nearly hacking my heart out.

"Easy now," said the same male. The same hand brushed over my forehead and stroked my disheveled hair back from my eyes. "Take it easy, Ms. Hart. You're in a slight shock but I need you to try to take deep, slow breaths."

I followed along without hesitation, seeing as this man is the reason why I was able to drink the life back into me, while keeping my eyes closed as I tried to keep myself steady.

"That's it," the man encouraged. "Nice and easy. Are you feeling better?"

I nodded wordlessly.

"Good. Now open your eyes little by little. I know the light can be overwhelming after so long."

I instantly opened my eyes and I was greeted by a lovely view of a man, probably in his late thirties, with bright hazel eyes, a sharp jawline, and a tiny layer of stubble. He had bleach blonde hair brushed back and a reassuring smile that has me relax mentally, physically, and emotionally.

I let out another shaky breath and licked my lips only to find out that both were drier than sand. I managed to choke out a word, weak and difficult, but still good enough to let out a feeble, "Water."

"Here you go, sweetheart," said one of the females, a sweet nurse with tender and genuine concern in her crystal eyes, as she gently lifted my head and tipped a glass of water into my mouth. I tried to gulp it down as fast as I could but I ended up throwing it back up and spilling it onto my torso.

"Slow, honey, slow," said the nurse. She did it once more and I took tiny sips, each making it easier for me to feel my tongue and throat once more. After she took the glass away, I instantly tried to sit upright but the man stopped me with a hand on my shoulder.

"Stay down," he ordered. "You need to stay still. Don't rush."

"Wh…" I sucked in a deep breath. "Wh...where...am I?"

The man, the doctor, sighed softly then looked over at the nurse and nodded his head at her. She placed the glass of water on the table next to me and then left the room after giving me a prideful glance. The doctor sat on the chair on my other side and placed the clipboard he had been holding onto the machine that is currently beeping. And it was fast. My heart rate is going through the roof.

"Do you remember who you are?" he asked. "Your full name?"

I frowned deeply. "Maya...Maya Penelope Hart. Who are you?"

"I'm Dr. Miller," he answered. "And yes, that means you are in a hospital. Do you remember what caused you to get in the hospital?"

I furrowed my eyebrows. I whacked my brain for something but I could hardly remember entirely what it is that had me admitted into this hospital, only small glimpses the medical crew rushing, a blazing light flashing at me along with a loud horn honking, a crowd of people shouting while policemen held them back, multicolor lights flashing, and lastly, I could see Riley's face scrunched up in distress with many rivers of tears flowing down her face and mucus dripping from her nose. Yet I couldn't figure out what led me to this point. It was bad, that much I know, but I could see what it was.

After a moment, I shook my head. "Wh...wh...what happened?"

Dr. Miller stared at me intently for a few minutes, the whole time making me feel awkward. I'd fidget with the hem of the covers that were over me or brush my hair behind my ears to distract myself from the slight embarrassment I am feeling with this man's eyes focused on me like this. I don't think this is part of his job description. I certainly know they did not teach him this in his years of the medical studies. At least, I hope they didn't.

He let out another sigh. "Okay, Ms. Hart...Maya...I don't want you to freak out with what I'm about to tell you, okay? It's very important that you stay calm and collected after waking up from a long time."

"L...long time?" I croaked out. "What are you t...talking about?"

He leaned forward, his elbows rested on his knees, his hand entwined, and looked at me directly in the eyes as he spoke. But as soon as he said those words, I went deaf to all sounds in the world and my vision blurred from the colors of life until it became an endless abyss of darkness.

Maya...you have been in a coma for twelve years...and you have finally woken up...

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 **Please Review!**


	2. Chapter One: Awaken

**A/N:** I do not own Girl Meets World, the characters, the locations, the songs and quotes mentioned in it. But I do own the plot.

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 _I felt it all_

 _I felt it all_

 _She left with the change in the leaves_

 _Through the fall_

 _Through it all_

 _On the ground which was taken from me_

\- The Fall; Ritual

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 _"When denial is in play, a person simply refuses to recognize the truth, no matter how apparent."_

\- Taite Adams

* * *

 **Chapter One: Awaken**

I had regained consciousness again two hours later and I was sitting on the hospital bed as one of the nurses, Mrs. Carter, I learned, went around her rounds for the day. Checking if my vitals were stable, measuring if my temperature was normal, making sure my respiratory rate was steady, and to make sure I had no fever. All the while, I was still as stone. I didn't respond to her on the spot unless she repeats what she said.

I wasn't sure if my eyes were open; Mrs. Carter had to guide my head back down on the deflated and misused pillow after she was done with her check-up on me, leaving me to rest on the lumpy mattress that has taken up the outline of my form. I can hear multiple hums of the machines attached to me, some droning on while others went off, but I didn't turn my attention to them.

Different voices went in my mind. Or were they my imagination? I can hear them, some of them. One of them had an accent that sounded they're from an old 1900's British film but I couldn't make them out because my ears were letting out a slow ringing. I fluttered my eyes closed, listening in to the many people whispering out their disbeliefs and thoughts, thinking I couldn't hear, thinking I fell asleep again.

I distract myself by trying to dig deeper into my mind, searching for answers I could capture. However, all I could see are bits. One moment I could see myself sitting on a stool inside the Art room in my high school, spreading out different colored paints on a canvas while talking to Mr. Jackson, my former Art teacher. The next, I saw myself climbing up the bleachers up to where Farkle and Smackle are seen hovering over a science book as usual. Lastly, I'd find myself walking through a crowd with Riley and dragging a trolley of luggage with us. That is the last thing I'd remember before everything went black.

 _Maya...you have been in a coma for twelve year...and you have finally woken up…,_ Dr. Miller's voice would echo in my head.

Twelve years...that is how long it has been since these memories of mine took place. Twelve years of sleeping in the same bed, in the same position, in the same clothes, and the same people taking care of me.

144 months cruised on without me.

4,380 days have passed.

105, 120 hours have flown by.

Each one, each second of those days, of those moments, were nonexistent to me because I don't remember living in them. I don't have memories created within that period of time. I was not awake to revel in them. I was here, lying like a decaying corpse, as the world spun and evolved along with its nature.

"How is this even possible?" I heard Mrs. Carter ask in a hushed tone. I can assume she is speaking to the doctor or a companion. Incredulity tipping on the edge of her words. "We checked her out hours ago. Something like this is rare."

"I'm just as shocked as you are, Katherine," I heard Dr. Miller's smooth voice respond, keeping extra low to make sure I don't hear. "But I checked everything about her. Her organs are functioning properly, her brain waves are normal, and her wounds are healed. The fracture in her skull is mended as well. It's almost like she's been reborn."

"I'd like to believe that, Michael, I really do," said Mrs. Carter. "But it's just illogical. You saw the results. We double-checked. This is...this is…"

"A miracle," Dr. Miller added. "This is what is called a miracle. You're right it is rare to happen but it did. And obviously it was meant to happen to her. I won't lie it leaves me perplexed in some way but in all honesty, I'm glad to see she pulled through in the end. I didn't want to resort to our last option."

"We had already told her family. Her friends, her loves ones. We told them that the chances of her waking up are slim and said we were going to pull the plug on her. We pronounced her dead."

I held my intake of breath. I was supposed to be dead? I was supposed to die? I wasn't supposed to have made it through the coma, according to them. And by their grave voices, my state was too unhealthy to consider treatable to them and I may have seemed far too gone, too lost, to be saved. Yet, somehow, I was able to open my eyes to see a light of a new day and have my heart beat another rhythm. I shouldn't have, but I did.

After a long lengthy pause, Dr. Miller spoke with confidence, "Then I guess we better make that call and give them the good news. Stop them from planning that funeral they're probably thinking about now."

"And what about her?" I may be pretending to sleep but I could still feel Mrs. Carter's worried gaze on me. "Should I have another nurse in here to keep monitoring in case something about her condition changes?"

"Don't worry," Dr. Miller responded. "I'll stay here a little longer. I'll send one later when I leave."

I waited for a while after their conversation had concluded and to hear the nurse's footsteps faded away down the corridor before sitting up on the uncomfortable mattress and then stretched out the stiff muscles of my tight arms. I looked around the room - white walls, white tiled floor, white machines, and through the door, I can see employees wearing turquoise uniforms. I can still feel a throbbing sensation in my head.

"How are you feeling, Ms. Hart?"

I look to my right to see Dr. Miller perched on the chair, his hands folded on his lap, and was watching me with serene eyes as I rubbed the grogginess out of my eyes. I didn't fall asleep but I still lacked the energy.

"Are you feeling any better?" he asked.

"I've been better," I murmured.

The doctor then probed his fingers lightly along my skull. I failed miserably to not wince under his touch.

"Still tender as I expected," he stated. "Don't worry. We have painkillers for that."

"I've had worse," I protested but he had already went to gather up the cool glass of water in one hand while the other held two pills then brought them over to me. I didn't bother to argue since he seem too adamant about it so I took them from him; I dumped the pills in my mouth and washed the gritty flavor from my mouth with the crystal water.

"I can assume you have questions you want to ask me," he said. This mind is a definite mind reader.

"What hospital am I in?"

"The Lenox Hill Hospital," he answered without hesitation. He reached for the clipboard on the table nearby and flipped through the pages. "Now I'm going to ask you a couple of questions. Just to make sure things are set. Just a precaution."

I stayed silent as I watched him roam through pages of his clipboard, anxiety beginning to fill me. I still have a couple of questions I needed to ask him. I needed to know more about why I am in the hospital and what caused me to be here. I recall this particular man telling me that I had been in a coma for twelve years but I consider that as a hallucination from whatever illness I must be struggling with. It just wasn't possible for me to be in a dreamlike state for so long and still be alive as well.

"Do you remember who you are?"

"Maya Penelope Hart."

"Excellent. Where were you born?"

"Greenwich Village, New York."

"Good, good. And what is your age?"

"Eighteen."

Then the doctor's posture seemed a bit off and he gave out an odd vibe that made my heart race ridiculously fast. I could see it on the monitor; one hundred and seventeen beats per minute, tops. There was a glaze over his eyes, bleak and grim, whilst he stared at me for a whole minute and when he blinked it was replaced with a sense of conviction as he glanced down at his charts.

"What year are we in?" he asked.

I was actually afraid to respond but I licked my lips and said, "Two thousand and nineteen. Is something wrong?"

I could see the conflict gleaming off his eyes as he continued to go through his charts, using it as an attempt to not look at me, and that irked me dearly. I didn't like to be ignored and certainly not when my life seems to be on the brink of ending not too long ago. I made a move to reach over to him to touch his arm but he had quickly rose from the chair and was taking long strides to the door.

"Hey!" I called after him. "What's going on?"

I immediately swung my legs over the edge of the bed and I hopped onto my feet. However, before I could make a step, I found myself tumbling towards the ground with a loud thud. I groaned at the impact, feeling my whole body rattle upon contact, and I tried to force myself up but the force had left me breathless, making me weak. The wires connected to my arm were being pulled and was yanking my skin, causing me to whimper in misery.

I tried once more to push myself up with my arms but my weight took away my strength and I dropped onto the floor again, my head bouncing off the tiles. I took in a large gasp of air as my head pulsated with the many vivid images appearing in my mind like an automatic slideshow and pictures I could hardly remember flashed on by; I see myself rushing into the Matthew's apartment with an envelope in hand - many balloons floating in the ceils, mountains of wrapped presents on a table, music blasting through stereo speakers, and a tower of a cake in the middle of it all - white caps with yellow tassels tossed in the air - myself and Riley shoving clothes into suitcases - a thousand tears - and then...nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Hurried footsteps were heard coming my way and the frigid floor pressed against my cheek was gone as I am being lifted up onto the bed. The wires were no longer tugging on my skin, to my relief, but my head was saying otherwise.

"What's happening to me?" I demanded. "Why can't I walk? Am I paralyzed?"

"No, no," said the doctor. "You are not paralyzed. I can guarantee you that. Your body just needs time to get fully accustomed to now. It's been awhile since it's been fully functional."

"Since when?" I questioned.

Dr. Miller sighed. "Maya, I need you to remain calm with what I'm about to tell you again, okay." He put his hands on my shoulders to keep me steady against the pillows. "I know you may find it hard to believe but, Maya, you have been in a coma for the past twelve years. You're not eighteen anymore - you're thirty now."

"Wh...what?" I breathed out. I could have sworn I heard him wrong. There must be something in my ear that's making me hear all sorts of nonsense now.

"It's the year two thousand and thirty one," he continued. "You have been fighting for your life for that long. There were moments when you would come and go but never fully stable. We all lost hope in you recovering and we announced you dead around seven this morning and we were going to pull the plug when you woke up."

"No...no…" I croaked out. "That's not...n-not possible."

"Twelve years ago, there was a bombing at the Newark Liberty International Airport on June 2nd, 2019," he explained. "It was a terrorist attack. Multiple deaths, at least sixty-eight in total, were counted and only sixteen were injured. You were one of those people who managed to get out alive. A debris fell on your head during the explosion and you were rushed to the hospital after authority cleared the whole area. Unfortunately, your brain had already begun to swell up by the time you were in the ambulance."

My body felt like it was shutting down as I was told of this information in less than thirty seconds. I was slow to process all of this, dubious at the facts being thrown at me in rapid fires. I could still hear him speaking through the hammering of my heart in my ears and I could feel the horrible chill crawling down my spine, paralyzing me in shock, as I froze into a mindless statue.

"We had to perform a surgery on you. The impact had caused, not only the swelling, but a crack in your skull and an infection was starting on your central nervous system. We lost you a couple of times from blood loss and had to use the defibrillator to bring you back to life. You pulled through enough to let us complete the surgery and give you a blood transfusion - one of your friends gave us a pint. Ever since then, we kept you monitored and waited to see if you would wake up anytime soon. Unfortunately, time went further than we thought."

I could see his lips moving but his voice suddenly went mute. All I could hear was silence, too much of it. It grew greater and greater by the second and it wasn't soon until I no longer have the sense of sound as I stared at him talk to me. The quietness filled my mind then eventually became a dull thrum; my body started to shake uncontrollably, my breathing turned ragged, basically hyperventilating, and my stomach churned wildly. My throat feels like it is clogging up then suddenly I had to turn away from him and retched all over the floor, which surprises me because I haven't had anything in my stomach for twelve years.

I gawked at the bile on the floor, my body fragile in tremors as I breathed desperately. From the corner of my eye, I can see Dr. Miller rapidly lunge forward in fear as I began to tip over the edge of the bed.

 _No way...not possible…_

That was my last thought before my vision went black once more.

* * *

I came back to reality five hours later. And it had been the worse time of my life.

I cooperated with the nurses and the doctor, going through the post-coma procedures and seeing that I don't seem to have any repercussions on my brain. They made me go through all kinds of exams to make sure my condition and find it to be healed wholly before they went along to attend the other patients. I was told that I was going to feel exhausted most of the time because I would need to readjust to my thirty-year-old body since I wasn't used to it.

After I was sure I was alone, I broke down. The initial shock was over and all that left is utter sadness. I finally accepted the fact that the past twelve years of my life have been lost to me, that I've missed so many important milestones to cherish on, moments to look back on, opportunities to have a wonderful future missed out on, and that the world has changed drastically without me. I had no idea what was currently happening; I did not know who I am or who the others are.

Riley - the Matthews - Farkle - Lucas - Smackle - Zay - my mother - Shawn - I didn't know who they are right now, what they do, and where they are. That only made more tears come out and I had to cover my mouth with my hands to muffle out the sobs.

Once I let out all of my distress, I pressed the assistant button and a nurse came in right away. She was an albino pale woman with swamp green eyes and chocolate locks, and her nametag reads her name is Casey Marks. I was relieved to know it was a woman. She helped me take a much needed shower after a decade or two and I was surprised to feel how dry my skin was, how heavy the bags under my eyes are, and the way my hair looked dead. She even gave me a razor to shave.

Ms. Mark brought me some spare clothes and I was greedy to change out of the hospital gown - I don't like the feeling of too much of me being exposed. She handed me a mirror after I laid back down for an ordered rest and I was in awe at my physical development throughout the years; my cheekbones were the same, my hairline stayed in place, and my blue of my eyes remain unchanged. Yet, I felt like I was staring at a stranger. Like the mirror was a doorway into my future. I looked older, mature, but my childlike wonder was still there in my gaze. I was grown up but under-developed.

Ms. Mark came back again with dinner. Tomato soup and a slice of garlic bread. She said she wanted me to start light on the eating out of concern that I did not throw it back up. She was smart to do so because I couldn't eat half of it without feeling nauseous. The nurse was kind to stay with me to tell me about the historical events that have occurred through the years; the war with ISIS has officially ended back at 2025 but a new threat called the Union rose two years after and have been a threat to America after their infamous attack on Air Force One. The President was out of harm's way but their death message kept the country on edge. I learned Selena Gomez was officially cured of her illness. The comedy show, Fuller House, was on its last season. And the difference between working class and high society was squashed thanks to our new President.

She then started talking about the people who visited me.

A very optimistic girl would come in with a hopeful smile on her face, a bag full of stuffed animals and a handful of "Get Well Soon" balloons attached to the wrist. She'd just sit next to me and talk about anything like I was actually there listening to her or sing a couple of lullabies unknown to them. Every day she came by, she'd be fresh with stories, full of newer energy, always beaming highly as soon as she saw me, and always speaking about the plans she came up for us to do. I had no doubt in my mind it is Riley. It pleased me to hear my best friend, my sister, never forgot about me and treated me like I was more alive when I wasn't but it made my heart clench painfully to learn she was slowly losing color in herself the longer I stayed asleep until she was a mere walking gray person.

The other was a charming young man with an impressive ability to talk so proper and an intellectual level beyond Einstein's or Isaac Newton. He'd come by with small towers of heavy textbooks that held chemical science and biology. He'd read them to me, trying to fill me in with information about the new discoveries of the world and the good it brings for people who felt like they did not have a chance. He also talk to me to but he seemed more discouraged when he did in contrast to Riley. My heart rose and fell for Farkle. I hoped he is still learning how to love and shown how important he is.

There was another nice man after Farkle. According to the nurse, he was a comical fellow. His comments and relatable jokes were simply to die for. He'd bring photo albums once in awhile, each of them with a new memory for me to look at and think of, or he'd bring his laptop full of home video to watch with me. Each blooper he'd crack a joke or a grin. I smiled to know that Zay still held onto his sense of humor but my heart bled for me when I found out that he stopped altogether because I wasn't there to share the laughter with him.

Afterwards a woman with a unique behavior and rare perspective of the world would come by. Ironically she did not speak in the way that Farkle did. She talked mostly about the Matthews; the lessons taught in History and English class, the first day Auggie started middle school, his first date with Ava Morgenstern, his first school dances, his first relationship, the time he learned he got accepted to his dream college, and his graduation. He is currently twenty-two and is in his second semester at his last year at the Cornell University. I appreciate Smackle for being considerate and thoughtful to keep me updated on my family. She has changed a lot since I first met her.

And lastly, the nurse talked about a dashing young man with an alluring smile that could make any woman swoon and absorbing green eyes that will captivate one with just a glance. He'd come almost every day with Riley or alone and he'd come with an art book to talk about all the artist's motives behind their painting, a playbook of the newest broadway show to talk about its plot to me, a couple of Polaroid shots that I had taken back in high school, and also a book full of records on the latest music. He told me about the Dallas Cowboys making it to the championship with the New England Patriots only to lose by four points and also about an incredible camping site spotted on the outskirts of the city. I had to laugh at how much of an outdoorsman Lucas became and seem to have fallen deeper into his Texas heritage.

The Matthews would come when they could with their work schedule and each visit is as bittersweet as the last one, all told by the nurse. There were tears and solemn talks yet they never forced themselves to stop coming back to me.

I politely asked Ms. Mark to take the dinner away because I needed to sleep off what I learned and I still feel like I needed the rest. It wasn't long for me to fall asleep. I had a somewhat vision of a dream; there was a plane flying overhead as I walked with Riley, both of us hauling our luggages with a trolley, and we were singing a song I never heard of but I somehow knew the lyrics by heart. I could see the Matthews, my mother, and Shawn standing by the car, smiling wistfully as they waved at us. And then when I turned to run back to them for a hug, a bright light left me blind and a loud horn blew my ears off then everything went dark.

When I woke up again, I was a bit feverish and the previous nurse, Mrs. Carter, was in the middle of doing her rounds when I did. She gave me the medicine for it and I was able to slump back in relaxation. She told me everything I recovered from as she checked the status of the machines; a broken skull, fifteen stitches on the back of my head, a few broken ribs, and other minor injuries. It left me rattled to find out I have all these injuries yet I couldn't remember how I got them.

After she went away with her report, I made an attempt to take a shower by myself and it proved to be quite difficult to move in my new body. I had to hold onto the metal bar and use a stool to keep me from tumbling. On the way out, I had to call out for help because my legs gave out on me. I was frustrated that I couldn't do something simple as standing or walking but she explained to me that it would take a while for me to 'learn' how to walk properly again and that I might even have to do physical therapy to do so. That brought me to another round of a sobbing episode once I was left alone in my thoughts.

A couple of hours later, Dr. Miller arrived and he was holding onto a small bin full of objects. He placed them on the table beside me and handed me one thing at a time. An iPhone 7, a battered wallet, an iPod with a set of earphones, and a Polaroid camera. These things were mine, I remember that, but I don't recall them being the last thing I held onto prior to my coma.

"We managed to hold onto some of your things from the attack," Dr. Miller explained. "I'm not sure if some of them work anymore but I kept them off to save the battery. If they turn on then I'd like to consider myself a miracle worker."

He meant it as a joke to try to break the tension in the room but I didn't laugh. I couldn't. I just went through my things while he stood there writing on his clipboard. I started with my wallet; inside was my driver's license, my debit and credit card, a gift card to Starbucks, forty dollars, and there was a photo of me with the group at Topanga's. I do remember that picture being taken; it was during the time when we were celebrating for Lucas and Zay leading their baseball team to the championship with two home runs.

I moved to my phone and I was surprised to see it turned on normally but a bit discouraged to see the screen was cracked by the corner. I saw the last text messages that were all from everybody, seventy-eight missed call, and ninety voicemails. Each of them from everybody I knew from Riley to mom. The photos were giving me nostalgia. I had put on a password to access them and I was relieved to see it was the same as I had it back when I was nineteen. Most of those photos were taken with Josh at Topanga's, at my apartment, and at his college dorm room. We'd be kissing, him hugging me from behind and kissing me on the cheek, or I'd be on his back for a piggyback ride. We were at Coney Island a lot, a dozen pictures of us there in different outfits. When I reached the more intimate photos, I made sure the doctor could not spare a glance as I looked at them; Josh wearing only a towel or sitting on his bed, shirtless, with tired eyes and other more revealing ones. I was reminded why I put a password on these. My mother would kill me if she saw these.

I immediately turned off the phone and stared out of the window. I thought of Josh. I was told he'd come visit me with his family but after a while, at least eight years in my coma, his visits have slowly decreased until they ceased altogether. I wondered where he is, what he could be doing, at this moment. Last time I saw him, we were on good terms and our relationship had been progressing into a serious manner ever since we chose to make things official between us once we played the long game enough for our ages to compromise. We had made plans to move into a quaint apartment within our budget and to take a small trip to Pennsylvania to meet his parents as his girlfriend.

But that was twelve years ago.

"I was supposed to die, wasn't I?" I asked.

Dr. Miller stopped scribbling on his clipboard and looked up at me, the expression on his face showing me his indecisive thoughts.

"I heard you and Mrs. Carter talking earlier," I said. "You were going to pull the plug...I was meant to die...but somehow I survived. Why did I?"

Dr. Miller lets out a sigh and lowered the clipboard from his eyes as he rapidly tapped his pen against it. He waited for a minute or two, scrutinizing my face for some kind of sign or change but I knew all I held was curiosity. He later pursed his lips and nodded his head slowly as he sat down on the chair he had previously been on.

"I'll be honest with you, Ms. Hart," he started. "I am just as amazement by this as you are. I've worked as a doctor for twenty-eight years and I've only ever seen a miracle like this happen once in all my life. It was a woman, a mother. She had a stroke during her job and she was very young her age to go through that - only twenty-four. She was in a coma for five years, never once showed any change of her waking up ever again, and eventually her heart gave out. We were going to pull the plug when she suddenly woke up screaming and pulling on her IV's and the ventilator out of her lungs. We had to tie her down and sedate her."

"Did you ever wonder how that could be possible?" I questioned. "How someone could suddenly come back to life?"

"I've wondered that for a long time and I never found the answer to it," he answered honestly. "But I've learned to accept that maybe science can't really explain everything. That maybe these sorts of things only happen because it is time for someone to make a choice; live or move on. I'd like to think that instead of the latter. And she chose to live in the end."

I licked my lips. "Do you believe in religious things? God and all that?"

Dr. Miller tentatively smiled. "I like to believe there is...another force, if you like to call it that way. Another type of power that has the ability to take and give life if granted to do so. For example; if someone ever wanted a baby, they will get a baby. They have a decision to make a change for the better or worse in someone's life or their own."

"Do you think I wanted to die?" I pondered, mostly to myself rather than him.

Dr. Miller didn't respond right away; he reached out one hand to gently pat on my arm and gave me an encouraging smile that both unwind me yet feel jittery.

"Call me superficial, Maya, but I believe you just needed to be reminded why you want to keep on living," he retorted.

Suddenly the door slammed open, making me jump in surprise and nearly knock all of my stuff onto the floor if I hadn't reacted to catching them quickly, and the doctor beside me almost dropped his clipboard, his eyes widen in astonishment. I looked up to see a woman with straight chocolate hair that fell over her shoulder like a waterfall and two pools of melted cocoa for eyes that held anticipation. Her face was smudged with white flour. She was wearing casual clothes beneath a stained apron and she was wearing one mitten.

She looked like she ran a marathon due to her heavy breathing, her chest pumping along with each one, and a few strains of her hair had fallen over her face. She was using the door for support as she tried to collect herself. She glanced around the room quickly until they settled on me and they immediately glistened up with a wall of tears as she sputtered through her choked sobs, trying to form up a sentence somehow, before she flung herself across the room and trapped me in a tight lock around my neck with her arms.

I tried to move my arms but they were caught within her strong embrace and I couldn't glance at the doctor because her hair was obscuring my vision so I just sat there in confusion as the woman's tears soaked into my shirt and blubbered on.

"Y-you're back," she cried. "Y...you're back...you're a-a-awake!"

I blinked. "Do I know you?"

The woman's sobs halted but her body still trembled. She slowly pulled back from me and had her hands on my shoulders whilst she stared into my eyes with her moist ones. I did not know why but her gaze made my heart flutter into life.

"Maya, don't you remember me?" she asked.

"Should I?"

"Maya, it's me," she said. "You have to remember me. It's _me_."

I took my time to observe her face; she has a heart-shaped face with a light complexion and a smooth jawline that could easily cut through paper. She has a slim and marginally athletic physique, and, just by the way she seem inches taller than me by sitting, has an above-average height. She gives off this sanguine energy that seems to bounce off the walls without control and this bottled up delight at the sight of me, almost like a young child trying to stay up the night before Christmas day in hopes she would see Santa climbing down the chimney. It brought up a bubbling sensation in my heart and my lips were twitching to form a smile.

And that was when I knew who this person was. I am ashamed to not have noticed it sooner. I am usually able to identify her from a mile away within a large crowd and a thousand noises at once. But at the same time, I couldn't hold all of the blame; she looked nothing like she did before. Her eyes have aged since then. All trace of the little girl who dreams of unicorns, rainbows, and ruling sugary kingdoms as the lollipop princess was gone and replaced by this woman who held wisdom, weariness, and loss of the youthful twinkle. She still held great idealism and nobility for the world.

"R...Riley?" I gasped.

She let out a breathless laugh and nodded as her new form of tears spilled onto her beautifully flawless face before she engulfed me into another tight embrace. This time I returned it with even more vigor, stroking the hair on the back of her head and rubbing small circles on her heaving back as an attempt to calm her down. I could see my vision was becoming blurry as my own tears started to well up and I buried my face in the crook of her neck, her hair concealing me from the light whilst I relished in the ancient feel of security and heaven once again.

"Welcome back, Peaches," she weeped into my hair, her tears seeping through my hair and dripping down. Her hold around me tightened.

I sniffled. "It's good to be back...Honey."

* * *

 **Please Review!**


	3. Chapter Two: Over the Years

**A/N:** I do not own Girl Meets World, the characters, the locations, the songs and the quotes mentioned in it. But I do own the plot.

Thank you to Jess for pointing out my error in Auggie's age. I miscalculated. But I immediately fixed that mistake and it all makes sense. Once again, thank you for telling me that.

* * *

 _"If you don't make the time to work on creating the life you want, you're eventually going to be forced to spend a lot of time dealing with a life you don't want."_

\- Kevin Ngo

* * *

 _Closing time_

 _Open all the doors and let you out into the world_

 _Closing time_

 _Turn the lights up over every boy and every girl._

 _Closing time_

 _One last call for alcohol so finish your whiskey or beer._

 _Closing time_

 _You don't have to go home but you can't stay here._

\- Closing Time; Semisonic

* * *

 **Chapter Two: Over the Years**

It was a huge relief for me to be able to switch from the lumpy bed to a comfortable wheelchair for my numb backside and to be able to smell fresh air (as fresh as it can be in a building full of sick people) beyond my room. I've never been to this one hospital, not once stepped a foot inside it, but my skin wa crawled over with goose bumps at the eerie atmosphere of the building. There was nothing wrong with the way it looks or the people operating it but I can assume it is my own body making me feel this way because I'm still trying to grow accustomed to this thirty-year-old body.

I didn't like it; it made me feel used and withered. Kind of like those rented tuxedos that men would use when they're too cheap to own their own and take the risk of getting a disease. I felt like that only times two with the exhaustion of sleeping for so long added to the equation.

My room neighbors would give me a hug or a kiss on the cheek before they gave the same treatment to Rily, leaving me bewildered. Riley had to explain to me that some of them were anticipating for my return a much as she and the others did for the sake of them and myself. My revival from my comatose sleep was basically the talk of the building as I could hear my name being whispered among the employees and feel their gazes burning a hole in the back of my head whilst Riley whisked me away from that gloomy room.

The walk through the corridors of the hospital was steady, soothing, as I listen to the conversations of humble elders and sentimental ones of couples who are speaking their last words to each other before their disease carried them away. I'd cringe and turn away from the scene. This is why I never liked hospitals; seeing people lose their lives for some unfathomable reason that seems clearly unfair and watch the closest person have to suffer with the pain of someone they love to finally be gone. I disliked it more knowing I was close to the gateway to heaven a few hours ago and I somehow managed to escape from its trance.

I'm suppose to be dead but instead I'm here breathing in air condition while Riley guided me around the hospital and talked to me endlessly about anything, about everything. She didn't tell me anything about herself - I told her I wanted us to be alone and private for when I learn about her life - but she spoke about things that interested her like the new flavor at the new Starbucks cafe that was built down the street, wanting to get a newborn golden retriever she saw up for adoption in a shelter on 17th Street, and talking about her new idea of design for her to do on her living room, saying she needs to change it up a bit to bring in a little of light.

All of these things didn't interest me as much as I pretended to be; I was more focused on what she could have done all these years without me, what kind of woman she has grown into, and what kind of impacts or marks has she left behind for the next generation to follow.

I was grateful for one thing for sure. Riley had gone back to her home to collect some spare clothes for me to wear in the meantime of her visit and they fit snuggly as I hoped. It was obviously some old clothes she no longer wears, I assume, because they fit a little loose and Riley's form seemed too petite for it. She also helped untangle my hair from its whirlwind of tormenting knots, miraculously reverting it back to its natural wavy locks like I last remember it to be, and she even smuggled in a takeout of Paco's Tacos so I wouldn't eat the flavorless oatmeal and chicken soup like the nurses have been trying to force me to do. The first bite of the tacos was like a forgotten taste of nirvana.

During the tranquil walk, Riley had asked the head doctor for permission to allow me to take a scroll around the small open field located in the back of the building that is meant for the elders or children with disabilities. He seems to have recognized me by name because he was quick to give us access to the place and had written us a note in case security guards or if other employees tried to send us back inside.

The hallway leading us to the backyard, as they like to call it, of the hospital was long and narrow. There were very little rooms found. Most of them were offices of the doctors, a break room for the employees to escape from stress, a lounge for the mobile patients to mingle with another, and the following doors were to semi-private pregnancy rooms, where some were full of shrieking women doing through painful contractions. I had to cover my ears from the ringing caused by their noises and Riley was quick to dash us out of the small area of the corridor.

When we nudged through the back door, I held back the astonished gasp threatening to break out of me as I was greeted by the sight of the field. It looked like an open meadow with grass probably greener than the one from Central Park, a table under the nice shade of the lone tree, a few patches of wildflowers growing, and a single bird bath in the center of it all. Patients of all ages are seen scattered throughout, talking or playing.

I was in awe as Riley moved us deeper into the field, putting in an extra nudge because my wheels were squeaking in protest against the dirt. I could feel the tips of the grass strands tickle the sole of my feet and the petals brush lightly between my toes. Sighing softly, I rolled my head back and stared up at the sky. A clear blue ocean with a few tiny clouds floating by ever so freely, I couldn't help but admire them as I lost myself deep into my thoughts. I could relate to that cloud in my current situation of just moving around blindly without any sense of direction yet.

Riley reached the table then and she walked around the wheelchair to give me assistance to stand up but I brushed her off. I wanted to do so myself but she was stubborn about me being hard-headed and continue to insist for her help.

"You heard the doctor, Maya," she stated. "You collapsed earlier trying to do the same thing and we can't risk it happening again. You're lucky you didn't lose conscious from falling on your head again."

"It was a bit of a shock," I mumbled, disgruntled. "I can walk."

"I know you can," she said. "But it's going to take a while for you to get used to your body again. And I'd be more calmer if you don't start trying to walk again until _after_ you do physical therapy."

"But that won't be until _after_ they do more stupid exams on me."

"Better safe than sorry." Riley raised an amused brow. "I don't remember you being so stiff, Peaches. Usually you're so mellow after taking a nap."

I gave her a stony look, causing her to giggle and playfully ruffle with my hair.

"Just kidding. In fact, we should always remember this day; an anniversary. The day Maya left the hospital - that sounds about right," she rejoiced, seeming in high spirits than usual. She reached inside the large purse she had brought along with her and brought out a small notebook where she started to mark this date.

I stared at her akin to amusement and joy. Putting away my crabby mood, Riley seemed like that little girl I remembered her to be, all cute and naive, at this moment, being so concentrated over something so trivial. Surely me getting discharged isn't worth that much of a hassle to put into memory.

A familiar mischievous bubbly inflated within me like it used to as I slowly crept my hand up and snatched the book from her hands, grinning slyly like the rebellious girl I was. Or used to be. Her pout was still the most undeniably appealing feature about that only seem to grow more irresistible with her age. It was the many things about her that made the boys in her grade trip over their feet when they pass by her in the hall or gawk at her in a lustful trance. I can imagine how much it is affecting men in her, or our, age nowadays.

I instantly surrendered and handed the notebook back to her. She gave me a lively scowl and wagged her finger at me as if she were my mother.

"Playful as always, Maya," she said, shaking her head, before she stuffed her notebook back in her purse. For a millisecond, I was reverted back to a time during our senior year, our last week in high school to be specific, and we were in our free period. The way she looked now was the way she was before, looking through the backpack for an essay she had due for Economics and she was panicking because she could not find it within her textbooks and notebooks. Then I was brought back to now with her keeping her purse organized and looking more like her mother on a good day.

I suppose it is a good day. Her best friend finally woken up from a twelve year coma.

I couldn't help but feel touched to see her put such an effort to keep this as an important date in her life, one bittersweet yet joyous because of this occasion, and to see her old flame of faith consume all of her anguish away to grow into a raging fire of elation. Without a second thought, I tenderly hugged her around her waist, nuzzling my nose into her blouse, inhaling the holy scent that came with it, and let myself loose into the enjoyment of her presence right in front of mine. Although I could only remember her like I have only seen her yesterday, my body felt like it had been a decade since it came in contact with her.

Noticing my affection, Riley leaned into my embrace, leaning her head down to rest her forehead on the top of my head, her hair falling around us to conceal us as she returned the hug with equal warmth and gently stroke my hair. I turned my head to the side and whispered softly, "You really missed me, did you, Pumpkin?"

Riley let out a sigh and nodded against my head. "I sure did. I'm so glad you're back."

Without another word, I fluttered my eyes closed while I listened to her breathing sooth and soft. If felt comfortable to be in this position, like the many other times whenever one of us are in need of each other's comfort during our tough times, and extremely sentimental. Neither of us said anything, just appreciating the moment, our very first since I've fallen, like it would be snatched away from us at any second. It nearly did and I don't want to take it for granted again.

"Ah, look at me all distracted, and it's all because of you," she said, quickly dislodging herself by lightly pulling my arms off of her and swiping her thumbs under her watery eyes. Then she held out her hands out to me. "Let's get you up now, shall we?" she added, flexing her fingers at me.

I let out an exaggerated groan, rolling my eyes, but resigning and allowing her to carefully haul me up onto my limp legs. She quickly curled an arm around my waist under my arm and slung the other over her shoulder as she guided me to one side of the table. I hadn't realized I was a walking dead weight until I slumped against the wooden seat and a sudden relief washed through me to be able to take the pressure off of my legs as I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding the entire time.

"Are you feeling okay?" asked Riley.

"Still adjusting," I answered while using my upper strength (or lack of) to twist my legs over the bench and lean against the table with my elbows. "I still think I'm paralyzed from the waist down."

"You're not," Riley said as she sits on the bench beside me and puts her purse on the surface, landing it with a surprisingly hard thunk. "You've been motionless for a long time so all your nerves are still trying to catch up with waking up with you. It won't be long until you're able to walk again. That's why the doctor suggested the physical therapy - helps your nervous system to get back on track."

"I thought the only way to get paralyzed is by getting hit in the nervous system?"

"But you weren't hit in the nervous system. Trust the doctor, Maya. You're not paralyzed."

"I don't know."

"Then trust me," she insisted. "Trust my belief in your doctor's words and that you're going to be okay with him taking care of you."

"Okay," I replied automatically. It was an instinct for me to quickly agree with her when it comes to her unbreakable faith in things. It has led me to good things despite my personal trust issues with stranger. I ran a hand through my recently brushed hair and sighed. "So how far has the world gone without me?"

Riley frowned. "Don't say it like that. Making it sound like you got left behind."

"Technically I have been," I pointed out. "The universe decided to keep me back at eighteen while everybody moved on and grew up without me. I think that's considered being left behind."

"Well you're wrong," Riley added. "Nobody moved on from you. Everybody was hoping you'd wake up eventually. And you did...just...not as soon as we wanted you to, but you did. And that's worth more than you think."

I bit my lip. It hurt to hear her speak. It was like a stab to the heart to listen to her speak in the tone of a woman of experience of life while I was still used to hear the voice of a little girl full of imagination and naivety. It was as if my childhood flown by without me. In a way, it really did and it left me with the Riley I am with now.

"So...what happened?" I breathed out. "I got a brief summary of it from Dr. Miller but I want to hear the full story. He said it was a terrorist attack."

With ancient terror in her eyes, Riley nodded. "Me and our parents were dropping you off at the airport - you were leaving to study in the California Institute of the Arts. It was from ISIS. One of the members had dressed themselves into a normal civilian to get into the airport and look like he was going to on a trip. The details of the whole thing are still sketchy to me but apparently he got caught by security guards at the entrance or he was aiming for it and it resorted to him fusing the bomb he had hidden under his clothes. Suicidal bomber. That wasn't the only one - there were two more in other airports around New York; one inside an airplane departing at JFK and another at the gates in LaGuardia."

I shook my head. "I don't remember any of this." I sucked in a shaky breath. "I can only get glimpses of it here and there but I can't remember it entirely. Temporary memory loss?"

"It's possible it could be a blocked memory," Riley said. She placed her hands on mine, rubbing her thumb over my knuckles. "It's common for some people to not be able to remember a traumatic experience. As much one wants to remember a certain day, their mind is telling them otherwise. I don't blame you if you don't to remember it, Maya. It's not a day anybody wants to think about before they go to sleep."

"But I want to remember it," I said strongly. "It's frustrating!"

Her hold on my hands tightened. "Maya, look at me."

I complied without question and I find myself staring into her brown eyes.

"You'll remember that day eventually when you feel like you're ready," she reassured. "And when you are, your mind will let you. Don't force it."

I lowered my head in defeat. I hated it at time whenever Riley is right about situations. I could never find a reason to counter her with because she instantly has the facts and rational reason why her argument is true. I let out another sigh and placed my other hand on hers. Then I knitted my eyebrows together when I felt something solid hit my fingers and I lifted my hands to look at hers only to inhale sharply.

"Is that a...a...wedding ring?" I stuttered. I glanced up at Riley, my eyes wide, and I saw that she had a sheepish expression on her face while keeping her eyes on our tangled hands. "You got married?"

"Yes and no," she retorted. "I'm engaged but I am technically married at the same time. I didn't have a wedding or got a marriage license but I'm sort of a wife. We act and treat each other like a married couple, we wear the rings, but we're not officially married."

I licked my lips. I felt a sense of pride for Riley through my slight chagrin at the words _marriage_ and _engaged_ coming out of her mouth. At least she had somebody by her side to support her in her dreams, her motives, her beliefs, to help her sleep at night if she ever had a nightmare, to hold her whenever she cried, to be quiet while listening to her rant, and to hold her hand as she waited for me to wake up. I couldn't thank Lucas enough for being her strength. I have to show him my gratitude if I ever get to see him.

"Why aren't you married?" I asked.

"Because I didn't have a maid of honor," Riley said honestly.

Something in my heart swelled up at the sincerity in her words and the truth hit me in the gut like a punch. There was a sting in the back of my eyes and I had to blink a couple of times to make sure those tears would not dare come out.

"Riley...you shouldn't have…"

"Maya, there was no way I was going to have a wedding and not have my best friend there," Riley stated firmly. "We always talked about each other's weddings and how it's going to be planned...and we always planned to be there as each other's maid of honor. I wasn't going to break that promise."

"Riley…" A smile broke out on my face for the second time of the day as the tears hiding behind my eyes finally leaked onto my face and I quickly wiped them away with the sleeve of the shirt Riley brought me before I snagged her into a suffocating embrace, not being able to handle my emotions at the moment. She molded easily into my arms as she kept her hands on my back, holding me close like she doesn't want to let me go.

"It seems we're going to cry a lot today, huh?" Riley said jokingly as we pulled apart and I wiped away the remains of my tears from my cheeks.

"It does," I chuckled. "I'm just glad you and Ranger Rick finally decided to get hitched. Thanks for waiting for me to be there to see it happen."

"Oh…" Riley lets out an awkward laugh as she scratched the back of her neck with a shy grin and her cheeks were painted a bright shade of red. "The thing is that...um...it's...it's not Lucas I'm getting hitched with."

My eyes widen in shock. "W-what?"

Riley pursed her lips. "It's kind of a long story."

"It's kind of a long day," I snorted. "What happened? I thought things were hot and heavy between you two."

"We were...throughout high school, we were...but things sort of changed in senior year for us," Riley explained tentatively. "You see, reality sort of hit us when stuff like college and jobs and careers started to get to us. We wanted to make it work even if we were going to different colleges - me going to Princeton and Lucas going to Rice University. We made plans to see each other for the holidays, summer vacations, holiday breaks, and whatnot but then we were talking about life after college and we realized we wanted so many different things. I wanted to stay in New York while he wanted us to move to Texas together. I didn't want to leave my friend and family and have to start over again but Lucas was pretty adamant about it."

"But you love Texas," I added.

"I do, I really do. I think it's the most cutest place and it has such a beautiful structure and the things they do over there are amazing, but I don't think I'd be able to live like that forever. I love listening to Pappy Joe and playing with the horses but eventually I'll start seeing people, hearing cars on the street, going in subways, and all the other things I love that I can only get in New York. It was all too good to give up, even for a life with Lucas."

"How he take it when you told him?"

"At first, not so well. He was pretty ashamed about my rejection to moving with him but eventually we talked about it a week before and we came to a mutual agreement to just stay as friends. The rest is pretty much history; he left to Texas the next day for the early summer program he got accepted into and I stayed to study in New York. We stayed as friends. Lucas didn't come back until Zay called him and told him what happened to you."

I fidget with my hands as I tried to process all that I heard. Lucas and Riley have broken up - they moved on from each other and continued to pursue their preferred careers - Riley eventually found someone who she is currently engaged to - and Lucas is -

"Where is he now?" I asked. "What's Lucas up to now? Matter of fact, what is everyone up to now?"

Riley smiled. "Farkle and Smackle are still going strong. Smackle has gotten better with her Aspergers and Farkle isn't questioning about who he is anymore either. They live in England - Smackle is a professor at Oxford, teaching chemistry and biology - Farkle became an archaeologist and travels the world to search for lost artifacts. He's become interested in it after he learned more about his Hebrew ancestry."

"Marriage? Kids?"

"Neither. Baby steps."

"So they're thirty-year old virgins?"

"Maya," Riley said sternly, raising a brow.

"What?" I laughed. "I need to catch up on these things!"

Riley rolled her eyes. " _Anyways_ , back on topic. Zay is currently a broadway director. He works at the Palace Threatre and has a new play that premiered out a couple of weeks ago. It's called _Eleanor in Economy_. Beautiful story - I'll take you one day to see it. And he also has a child, Jeremiah. He's a single father. He and Vanessa tried to have a relationship when he studied in Texas for a while but they couldn't work out. They share a joint custody. I can't wait for you to meet him, Maya, he is just too adorable to not hug as soon as you see him!"

I formed a small smile. It pleased me to know that all of my friends have settled in a steady life with only a few hardships to handle at the moment. I really wanted to meet Zay's son eventually because the way Riley described him really has me anxious to have him in my arms already. I wanted to visit Farkle and Smackle to be able to revel in how deep and far their relationship has gotten, how well they have changed since middle school, and how proud I am of them to be each other's encouragement to change into the best people they could be.

"And what about my mom? Shawn?" I questioned.

"They're still married," Riley said in a comforting tone and I had to breathe out a sigh of relief; that was my biggest fear. "Believe it or not, Maya, your mom is now managing the latest actors in the movie industry," Riley said, making me drop my jaw in disbelief. "I know, I had the same reaction. But I guess since that movie she did years ago became such a hit, she wanted to give the same chance to others. She's currently managing two big stars she discovered; Colleen Davison and Jack Sanchez. You should see their movies. They won loads of Grammies and at least one Oscar."

 _Wait to go, mom,_ I thought, my small smile stretching into a wide grin. "And Shawn?"

"Took his photography career to a whole new level. He went from taking pictures of landscapes for freelance to a tour photographer. He's coming back in a month from a worldwide tour with Gun N' Roses."

I nearly choked on my own saliva. "Guns N' Roses? You mean to tell me Shawn met Axl Rose? Slash? That's like a dream come true!"

Riley giggled. "His number is still the same if you want to call him and get an autograph."

"And what about your family?" I quickly asked, excitement running through my veins at these stories. "Is Matthews still teaching? Topanga still in law? I learned Auggie is in college. About time him and that Ava get together too!"

"Dad is still teaching and mom is still a lawyer," Riley said. "And you're right; Auggie is in college and in a relationship with Ava. They've been together since junior year. He's studying graphic design and she's studying crime and justice."

 _Wow_ , I thought solemnly, _Auggie really grew up. I can't believe I missed it all._

"And Josh?" I asked, wanting to distract myself from the gloomy cloud that is slowly hovering over me at the thought of the little boy I grew up with was now beginning his life and I was not there at the start of it all.

"Uncle Josh...went back to Philadelphia," Riley slowly responded. "He moved back home at 2027. He only comes during the holidays. He doesn't talk much about what he does for a living but I think he's somewhere between the line of an architect or a chiropractor."

"Oh," I glanced down at my hands. A part of me was disappointed to not be able to know more about the first guy I've fallen for and my heart was crackled to hear that he did not bother to ask about me during his visits. Another part of me was glad he is able to do what he tells me he loves to do; create and build. He told me how much he would want to make huge structures like the ones he saw here in New York and help make his hometown larger for other people to have a more comfortable home. It upsets me I couldn't be there to see it but happy to know he's doing it.

I played with the band around Riley's finger, biting my lip in hopes it won't show what I feel on my face, and glanced around the green field as I asked, "And Lucas? What's he been up to?"

"Well, Lucas...I don't know what he is doing right now," Riley seemed hesitant. "He sort of disappeared."

"Disappeared? What do you mean he disappeared?" I demanded. I couldn't imagine the thought of Lucas never letting Riley know about his whereabouts or her not having any information about his life. It doesn't sound like her or him - it doesn't sound like them in general.

Riley ran a hand through her hair, brushing it back from her eyes, and then looked directly into mines as she gently rubbed my knuckles, obviously trying to keep my nerves smooth. It only made my heart accelerate at an inhuman rate.

"Maya, you see," she paused for a moment to take a breath before continuing, "a year after you fell into a coma, Lucas had dropped out of college and joined the army, the Navy Seals to be more specific. He served in for six years until he retired. After that -"

"Please, Riley," I pleaded, fear slowly creeping up in me and I was sure my heart was going to explode the quicker the beats got. "Please, please tell me Lucas isn't dead."

"He's not," Riley instantly said, helping me to breathe evenly again. "He's just...gone. Nobody knows where he is. Not even Zay knows where he is."

"How can he just...disappear?"

"No one knows. Probably something he learned in the army."

"Why would he even join the army in the first place? Lucas hates violence more than anything. It cost him a year of his school life. He's against it. Being in an army requires hand-to-hand combat and...killing people."

Riley sighed. "Do you remember our freshmen year? When the seniors told us to go in the Hole and bothered Lucas was because he felt like he couldn't protect us?"

"Yeah…"

"That's how he felt when he saw you were in a coma and he couldn't do anything to wake you up. He even blamed himself for not being there when the explosion happened or for not being there when you were in surgery. He couldn't handle not doing anything, not being able to protect you from any of that, and I think he was going to go out of his mind any time soon by the guilt he shouldn't even have felt. It was a long process with his parents against his decision, along with mine and the others, and to convince the captain to get him ensigned but he managed to get in the ranks. He -"

"He got in the army to do what he loves to do and that's to protect," I finished. "By protecting the nation, he's protecting us too."

"Yeah…"

"You stupid Huckleberry," I said in a low tone. I closed my eyes while lowering my head. I tried to picture that same handsome face of a young man with the Southern manners, his head full of stories of horses, his heart settled in the right peaceful mind of the world, and a genuine smile that makes one feel good about themselves dressed in a camo uniform stained by the blood of his enemies or in the dark suit with the white cap but I couldn't. All I can see is the sweet country boy wearing his cowboy hat and blue shirts.

"I'm sure he's fine," Riley retorted. "This is Lucas we're talking about. He's temperamental, not reckless."

"Yet he joined the army, knowing he could get killed at any moment."

"But he isn't."

I quieted down for a minute. My rush to learn more about my loved ones seem to have died down after finding out this piece of information. My adrenaline has me feel somewhat dazed as the pang of pain in my heart worsen at the possibility for one of them to face their death. I wouldn't be able to handle it if I lose any of them. I hardly managed to do so when my Gammy finally went to an eternal sleep on her death bed and that was when I was sixteen - that horrid twinge is still there to this day.

"I want to go back to bed," I murmured. "I feel tired and Dr. Miller said I should rest up for the time being before I start my physical therapy."

Riley seemed taken aback by my blunt request then a glint of understanding shone off of her eyes as she saw the hidden message behind mine and she got up from the bench to begin to help me back onto the wheelchair without another word. It was like a secret link between us whenever we shared a specific look, like it always has been for years, and she knew I needed to take time to take in everything she told me or I'd probably become overwhelmed.

I don't need her to get in trouble by my condition.

As Riley started to push the wheelchair on the trail back to the building, my thoughts were conflicted by my erratic emotions towards Lucas. Never in my life did I ever feel so worried over him because he was one of the most secure people I've known in my life and to hear that he had fallen apart at the fact that I have been caught in a terrorist attack has me frightened for him.

If Lucas was not able to be kept together to remain rational then I cannot imagine the rampage he is going through where he is.

* * *

 **Please Review!**


	4. Chapter Three: Rare Gift

**A/N:** I do not own Girl Meets World, the characters, the locations, the songs, and the quotes mentioned. But I do own this plot.

Guys, we need to try to save GMW. There's been news that MJ is in talks with other networks to continue the show and that Netflix is talking to Disney to release the show to them. We need to keep on going with everything to keep the show going - the story is now over!

Remember when the Board of Education tried to stop the English teacher from teaching the kids with comic books and when they tried to cut off the art program? What did our favorite characters do? They fought for what they believed in!

We gotta do the same for them. We gotta help Riley and the crew finish the story they're trying to tell us. So keep doing what you do, keeping saying what you're saying - our voices are being heard!

Also, I know some of you may not be a fan of Miley Cyrus but I thought the song I found by her suited perfectly for Maya's emotions in this chapter. So please bear with it.

#SAVEGIRLMEETSWORLD

* * *

 _You are the sunlight in my day,_

 _You are the moon I see far away._

 _You are the tree I lean upon,_

 _You are the one that makes troubles be gone._

 _You are the one who taught me life,_

 _How not to fight, and what is right._

 _You are the words inside my song,_

 _You are my love, my life, my mom._

 _You are the one who cares for me,_

 _You are the eyes that help me see._

 _You are the one who knows me best,_

 _When it's time to have fun and time to rest._

 _You are the one who has helped me to dream,_

 _You hear my heart and you hear my screams._

 _Afraid of life but looking for love,_

 _I'm blessed for God sent you from above._

 _You are my friend, my heart, and my soul_

 _You are the greatest friend I know._

 _You are the words inside my song,_

 _You are my love, my life, my Mom._

\- A Poem for Mom; Champagne S. Baker

* * *

 _You tuck me in,_

 _Turn out the light_

 _Kept me safe and sound at night_

 _Little girls depend on things like that_

 _Brushed my teeth and combed my hair_

 _Had to drive me everywhere_

 _You were always there when I looked back_

 _You had to do it all alone_

 _Make a living, make a home_

 _Must have been as hard as it could be_

 _And when I couldn't sleep at night_

 _Scared things wouldn't turn out right_

 _You would hold my hand and sing to me_

\- Butterfly Fly Away; Miley Cyrus

* * *

 **Chapter Three: Rare Gift**

After eating another scheduled dinner when Riley and I came back from our walk, I told - more like reassured - Ms. Mark that I was a bit exhausted from using all of my energy for the day and was about to go to bed early. She reminded me to take it easy with my head like Dr. Miller told me to, and Riley agreed with her. She gave me a kind kiss on the head and told me to have sweet dreams while I slept before she went to make a couple of private phone calls in the corridor, leaving the door afar to listen to me. _Why would I want to dream when everything I want is slowly coming back to me in reality?_

I didn't really feel tired at all. I just needed an excuse to be alone; too overwhelmed by the events of the day. I grabbed the duffle bag Riley brought, filled with spare clothes and some toiletries for me, and then I carefully dropped myself onto the wheelchair again and pushed myself into the bathroom.

The shower was more relaxing than my previous one. It used to stool without remorse and leaned back as the droplets pelted away the tension in my muscles and washed off burden of my shriveling form. Even dry-toweling my hair and scrubbing the lasagna out of my teeth seemed to make me feel newer. Wrapped in a towel, I wheeled back in my room. I couldn't tell if Riley was still standing outside of the door, talking on the phone, or if she went to the cafeteria for a quick snack. I tilted my head to peer into the crack of the door and I saw the side of her figure beside the doorframe.

She was definitely still there.

Sleep had caught up to me and was making my body feel heavy. I knew I was going to crash soon. I slowly dressed myself in the most comfortable clothes Riley brought for me, but I was a bit sluggish so I was able to put on a pair of loose sweatpants and an old Princeton sweater that was only one size too large for me but surprisingly snuggly. I can only assume it to be Riley's - I'd feel awkward if she ever lend me some of her fiance's or husband's clothes.

Once I was fully dressed, I dug out my electronics from the small bin, Dr. Miller left for me earlier and I plugged my earphones into my iPod. I was thankful to see it turned on normally and the touch screen only had a few mild scratches but not enough to ruin the sensibility. I settled it into shuffle, instantly finding my favorite song by _The Smiths._ Normally, a One Direction song would play because Riley has an unhealthy obsession with them, mostly with Zayn, and downloaded them in my iPod without me knowing so she could blast it in the radio of her car. She had been a major fan of that band since their first single so whenever we have free time, we would listen to their songs (secretly meaning, I'd whine while my ears bled and she fell into the spell of their English accents).

I put on the earphones, pressed PLAY, and lay down on my bed as I turned up the volume until my ears thrummed. I closed my eyes, awaiting for the yearned sleep, but the shady lights of the lamp in the far corner still intruded so I added a small pillow over my head to consume me away into darkness.

I concentrated very hard on the music, my foot twitching along with the rhythm of the lyrics being sung into my ears, and the slow-tempo beat of the song being hummed into my head. By the fifth time I went through that song, it became a mantra in my mind. And soon, it worked; the heart-soothing thrums made my nerves cease from tingling. I listened to every song I've downloaded in my iPod again and again until I was silently humming along with the songs, then, finally, I fell asleep.

* * *

" _Huh? Me? No...n-no way! This gotta be a joke or something!"_

" _It's not, Maya...You finally made it. You got the scholarship...the full ride...You're going to college and you're going to study art. You're going to live your dream. We gotta get you packing right now - your plane leaves in six hours."_

What? Shawn? Where is he? I couldn't see him. I could feel him near but I could see where he is. Everything was pitch black. Too black. I couldn't trace the outline of a figure within miles.

" _Hey Matthews, writing another lesson on the board again? You do know that we just graduated an hour ago. What else do you have left to teach us?"_

" _Just because you no longer need me to teach you things, doesn't mean you're done learning about the world, Maya. Right now, you're going to be your own teacher and your own student - the world is going to be your classroom - your experiences will be your lessons - and the way you handle them will be your final grade. This is just the beginning of your biggest test of them all - life."_

What? That is Cory's voice. I can hear him speaking to me. He is somewhere. I need to find him. I need to see the man who became my first father figure in my life. I need to find the man who gave me a home, a life.

" _You should be sleeping. You got a big day tomorrow and I don't think you want to end up napping during the valedictorian's speech. Smackle might not live it down if you did."_

" _I can't sleep."_

" _I can see that. Care to talk about it?"_

" _No...yes...maybe. I don't know."_

" _You're scared to graduate?"_

" _Yeah...I don't know why. I mean I had an elementary school graduation and a middle school graduation. I don't know why this one bothers me so much. It's the same as every other one."_

" _Maybe because this one will truly change everything. Your other graduations signify you going through another step ahead with the others by your side, knowing you're going to the same place, have the same closeness, have the same strong bond. This one...is taking you to different places around the world, doing new things, doing what you love, and not knowing where you're going to end up."_

" _If that's your way of comforting me then you need to practice more."_

" _Real life is a scary thing to face. But just know, no matter how alone you may seem, you never really are."_

Topanga...I recognize that sort of language anywhere. She is the only one who could ever speak those sort of things full of meaning and powerful message meant for me. Where is she?

" _Yo!"_

" _Ahh! Dude! Not cool! Do you know how hot that coffee was? You stained my favorite shirt too! This is vintage!"_

" _Calm down, Blondie. Just rub some Tide on that and it'll be brand new. Anyway did you guys get your letters yet? Mine came in this morning!" That was Zay._

" _Yeah, I got it not too long ago. We're waiting for Lucas and Riley to open them together." That one was definitely Farkle._

" _Oh, I already opened mine." That one, without a doubt, it certainly Smackle. "It says I got into Yale. Even if I didn't, I can already tell by the weight. Rejection letters are just an envelope, acceptance letters are a whole package like the ones we have now. Oh...um...except..."_

" _Oh…"_

" _Maya, you -"_

" _It's alright, Farkle. I guess it was sort of expected of me. Maybe I'm not meant to go to college."_

I wish I could see them. I wanted to live out what was happening. But I couldn't figure out what was transpiring. Everything seemed scrambled and thrown out of place. I can't remember what went first.

" _Have you applied for college yet?"_

" _Have you applied for the rodeo? I heard they're looking for a sucker for steer wrestling. Why don't you saddle on up and head over to wrestle that young steer like ya meant for, eh, Sundance? Make yer Pappy Joe proud with your cow-tippin, horseback ridin', bull-hoppin ways."_

" _Still haven't applied, have you?"_

" _Ah, get off my back, Huckleberry."_

" _It's okay...I haven't either."_

" _Really? Not gonna lie, I'm a bit surprised. I expected you to already have everything planned, aside from Riley, Farkle, and Smackle. Even Zay got his life straight."_

" _I thought I had it all planned too until the applications started coming in and some complications came with it."_

" _Can't decide whether you want to go or not?"_

" _Can't decide if I want to go to the one I want or the one my parents want me to go to and follow the family tradition."_

" _Which college is it?"_

" _Stanford University. All the way in California."_

" _Whoa, that's...that's...a little too far from home, isn't it? What's the other one?"_

" _Rice University. Back in Texas."_

" _Ah. Wanna go back to the land of wheat, eh. Back to milkin' the cows and grindin' the meat. Back to ridin' yer tractor down to the sunset with wind blowing yer cowboy hat off and listenin to the country blues."_

" _Now you're just blowing off steam, aren't you?"_

" _I got a lot in my mind! This is the only thing that's bringing me joy!"_

" _I'm happy to hear that."_

That is Lucas. I can hear the Southern accent rolling off his words. I still could not believe that he is suddenly gone. I couldn't imagine it. I could hardly picture living off a day where he'd give me that challenging stare whenever I tried to break him by teasing him of his heritage and then the playful glint in his eyes when he sees I am nowhere near to getting through him. I want him to come back.

" _Everything will be okay, baby girl."_

" _You think so?"_

" _I know so. You are my daughter, after all."_

That voice...it sounds distant. Almost too faint for me to hear but I managed to hear what was said. It is a woman - I was sure of that. She sounded earnest, her words heartfelt. Almost like all of her faith in the world is in me, all of her heart is wholly held out in the open for me, all of her hope in me was strong, and her belief in the better of me was firm. It was too powerful that I'd cry if I was awake.

" _I love you, baby girl."_

" _I love you too -"_

* * *

"Mom!" I gasped out, wrenching upright out of the bed only to find myself faceplant on the floor with a groan, taking the small table full of used dishes with me and making them shatter on the floor with a clash. My sudden movement even caused my earphones to pull off the iPod from said table and it clattered on the floor with the broken glass.

The lamp on the corner of the room was still on. I glanced, disoriented, at the clock on the wall. It was eight-thirty-seven in the evening. I groaned as I tried to push myself up with my arms and turn myself onto my back, leaning back on my elbows. I was too alerted to go back to sleep now, too active to relax. I ran one hand through my hair, pulling off the elastic band I used to make a ponytail, then quickly combed through the plaits.

I only have fourteen hours left to sleep before the doctor comes in to run more exams on me but, somehow, even though my eyes drooped and my body demanded to be rested, I couldn't find the strength to because of the torment happening in my chest.

"Maya?"

I snapped my head up and saw Riley standing at the door, her face betraying her shock, holding a cup of instant coffee before she quickly rushed over to my side to help me back up on my bed. It was at that moment I realized I had been crying until I felt tears drip from the tip of my chin and heard a ragged sob rake through me.

Riley kneeled in front of me with her hand steadying her weight. Her hair was a mess; she looked like an electrical surge had pulsed through her. Her brown eyes were wide, vigilant, her lips pressed together in a tight line, and I could see she was trying to control her breathing.

"You're still here," I said.

"Yes, I am."

"You should be home with your husband. He's probably waiting for you, wondering where you are."

"I called him a few hours ago. He understands. He actually came by earlier but he had to leave because there was an emergency at his job," Riley said. She raised her hand to wipe away some of my tears. "What happened?"

"I had a freakish dream," I admitted. "And I fell off the bed."

"You're crying," she noted.

I reached up to feel my face with my hands and brushed my hair out of my face. My face felt wet like I expected it to be in my dream but it felt more like a flood broke through a dam. Salty tears coated my fingers and ran down my palms. I stared at them as the warm drops made tiny rivers down my hands.

One of Riley's slender, soft hands wiped more of my tears from my cheeks. She was calmer, but still attentive, Her eyes were red and weary - it pained me to know that it was partly my fault.

I couldn't explain the strain in my heart but I couldn't stop myself being thrown into Riley's arms and buried my face in the bend of her shoulders as I let out a series of strangled sobs into her shirt. My mother's voice echoes in my mind, one of the last words she said to me before I've fallen, played like a melody. An eerie melody. Her tenderness, her devotion, her friendship, her passion, her heart were all something special to me - she was special to me. I wish she had been the first person I saw when I woke up. More sobs broke out as tears flowed out of me and drenched Riley's shoulder.

Then the door swung open with a loud bang, startling both me and Riley out of our embrace, as Dr. Miller barged in. Following behind him were a couple of nurses, two of them I recognized. Their faces wore matching shocked expressions and their slightly red eyes seemed unhurried.

"What is going on here?" Dr. Miller asked, his words coming out in a rush, as he looked around the room frantically.

Riley answered for me; however, her voice was silent to my ears as I stared at the far wall, mostly in a numb trance as the nurses approached me to tend me in any way possible and to check on the status to my condition. My heart rate had lowered for a little bit, at least enough to not feel like it was going to erupt out of my chest, and my breathing remained labored but I did not feel anything else.

 _Just a dream_ , I thought. _Just a dream._

I took a deep, shaky breath as I ran my fingers through my hair, and then jumped again when realization struck me like a lightning bolt in an electric storm. I thought about the time when I was six and a strong storm had hit New York. It had taken three days for it to pass by and the nights were a nightmare to me; I'd be under the covers, weeping in fright, as the rumbling thunders make the thin walls shake, the windows rattle, and shriek whenever a lightning would bright up the room because deformed shadow figures would appear in my bedroom. Then my mother would come in, crawl under the covers with me, and hold me tight as she sang a beautiful lullaby I didn't think could exist.

 _Mom_ , I thought. _I want my mom. I want my mommy. I want my mommy here._

"Where's mom?" I asked immediately when her dazzling face came to mind, and instantly tried to began to push myself closer to the edge of the bed, ignoring the concern orders of the nurses surrounding me.

Warm, gentle hands were on my face; the tender fingers lingering on my cheeks have caressed over my skin to wipe the tears away, and held my head still as I stared into the kind, chocolate brown eyes of this wonderful woman I feel blessed to call my best friend and surrogate sister.

"Maya...Maya, honey, you need to sit down and calm down for a moment," she insisted in a soft, sweet voice.

"No," I protested. "I...I need to see her...I...I-I need to see my mom!"

I pulled her hands off of my face by her wrists before I made an attempt to crawl off the bed. I didn't make it far enough before the nurses started to pull me back down on the bed but I used as much upper strength as I could against them, specifically when two of them are males, and I didn't listen to them or their explanations of medical procedures. I could even hear Riley crying to me to stop in the background of the chaos.

There was only one thing in my mind - the one person I am thinking about, and needed to see, to be able to have that ounce of peace I am missing the most. The voice of the mother in my dreams would not do justice in comparison to hearing it in real life. A memory is what it is. A moment in person is a lifetime. It is what has kept me warm, given me what I got, showered me with enough love for me to feel from her and a parent who never wanted me, and to support me through my struggles of my personal issues.

I'd rather face the Grim Reaper again and meet up with Gammy on the other side of the universe rather than not be able to hear my mother's voice again.

I avoided one of the nurse's hands that aimed for my arm and I tried to lung forward away from them when the door suddenly swung open on its own again. I stopped in a sudden halt, my movements frozen, and my lips parted slightly as I find myself staring into a pair of dark brown eyes. Her gorgeous inhuman face had stunned me in amazement - I couldn't believe it myself that she is standing here right now.

"M-Maya," she panted, breathless. Her face was flushed in a faint shade of red, her hair was a total tornado of chaos, and her clothes were wrinkled. There was a plastic bag hanging from her wrist.

I swallowed hard. "Mom," I whimpered as images of my memories of her in the past popped inside my head - her pretending to be Gimbo the Elf to give me a great Christmas, her in a waitress uniform, her getting the locket I always wanted for my fourteenth birthday, her getting the lead role against A-list actress, Anastasia Boulangerie (or Bobby Jo. I'm still confused about the whole thing), and her getting married to Shawn. "Mom!"

"Oh my God, Maya!" she rejoiced as she flew across the room and flung herself onto me, pushing her way through the crowd, latching her arms around my shoulders.

The force of her embrace had me stumble back into the headboard with a thud, but I didn't pull away from her, and I just wrapped my arms around her, my hands resting on the middle of her back as she quietly spoke into my ear in a hushed tone. Her face was hidden by my shoulder, her fingers were curled around the nape of my neck while muffled sobs shuddered through her body and my shirt absorbed her tears.

"I...I can't...b-b-believe it!" she stumbled over her words, her breath huffing against the side of my throat. "My baby girl...y-you're here...you're h-here!"

I only whimpered. It was all I could do. My throat was dried up with emotions. I brushed her hair, which I can tell she had cut very recently by the tips, behind her ear, and then softly pressed my lips against her temple. I knew she could hear and feel the rattling of my heart.

"Mom, calm down," I whispered as my fingers made slow, comforting patterns on her upper and lower back. "Everything is okay. I'm here - I'm back."

Mom nodded her head against my shoulder. "You're awake - you're awake - you're awake - you're finally awake! Oh my God!"

"Yeah, I'm awake, mom," I reassured her. "And I'm not going anywhere."

Her sobs were quieting a little, though, several hiccups came up from the back of her throat before she raised her head from my shoulder and pressed her forehead against mine as she brought up her hands to my face, her fingers trembling slightly while she gently caressed my face.

"Look at you," she said in awe. "My baby girl...You haven't changed a bit. I missed you so much."

"I missed you too," I said.

"I tried to come as soon as I got the call but they held me back at work," she told me. "I just can't believe you're really awake. They told me that they were going to pull the plug and...and...I thought - I couldn't be there to - I just couldn't watch -"

"Mom, mom, it's okay," I responded with a small smile.

It was ecstatic to be able to see the woman who gave me birth but I was a little sadden to see how much she has changed and I was not there to see her grow. She still has the features that I share with her to make her seem like an older version of me but her golden locks have faded in some patches into a dull gray shade, letting me know that she had grown old by mind and heart and there were faint laugh lines. It was like looking into the future.

Riley stepped forward, a small smile on her face.

"I tried to tell you sooner that your mom was on her way," said Riley. "I called her a few hours ago to let her know and I tried to tell you but you were already asleep. I knew you wanted to see her - you were calling for her in your sleep."

I smiled. "Thank you, Riley."

Riley nodded before she turned to the medical team. "Everything is fine now, doctor. It was just a child wanting her mother. I believe it is one of the more common reaction for a patient at a young age to have whenever they wake up from a coma."

Dr. Miller seemed impressed by Riley's knowledge then his lips twitched. "Yes it is, Ms. Matthews. I would like to apologize to Ms. Hart if we caused any stress on her in any way. It's instinct to react on the spot whenever one of our patients are showing unnatural behaviors."

"It's fine," said Riley. "But I think it's more appropriate to leave them alone for a while. Visiting hours don't end until nine-thirty, right?"

"We should." Dr. Miller turned to the others. "Let's move along, everyone. These ladies have lots to catch up to." Then he glanced at Riley. "Could I interest you in some coffee, Ms. Matthews?"

"I already have some." Riley gestured to the coffee she had on the table but then she chuckled awkwardly once she saw that the coffee was literally _on_ the table and turned back to the doctor with pink cheeks. "I guess I could go for seconds." She looked over at my mother. "Do you want anything, Mrs. Hunter?"

Mom shook her head. "No, thank you, Riley. I had enough at the office."

"Alright."

Riley gave us a satisfied smile, her eyes holding a glint of contentment, before she left to follow Dr. Miller and the other nurses out of the room. I managed to catch her secretive smile within the crack of the door before she closed the door shut. As soon as the click of the door was heard, my mom immediately pulled out her phone and started to search through the apps.

"I need to call your father," she pointed out. "He probably already got the call but he needs to see it himself. I told him about the bad news when they told me but I think this will make him feel better. He looked so lost, more than usual, when I told him they were going to pull the plug on you."

"Isn't he on a tour with Guns N' Roses?"

"He is. He doesn't let that stop him from answering any of my calls. Besides it's already noon over where he's at. Their concerts don't normally start till six or seven."

I watched patiently as my mother clicked on Shawn's contact for a FaceTime session and looked at the screen anxiously whilst it rang continuously. At first, I thought he probably wouldn't respond to the call until the ringing stopped and the screen changed into Shawn's face close up to the camera, his eyes a bit unfocused and he was sporting a five o'clock shadow, but then he instantly lit up once he saw my mother.

I held my breath. I was flabbergasted to see how much he's changed over the years. He still have the same slick hairstyle I remember him to have only it was colored in the same gray as my mother's hair, worry lines were carved in the middle of his forehead, and small signs of wrinkles forming in his skin. The only thing that never changed was the passion in his eyes - it still glowed like a lighthouse.

"Hey babe," he greeted fondly, the tone bringing my heart to rest from the anticipation. It brings me great joy to know that after fifteen years since they got married that they still have that face of infinite adoration reversed for the other. Not even my incident was enough to break them apart - it seem to have brought them closer than ever.

"Hey hun," mom said. "Did you just wake up?"

"Yeah," replied Shawn in a dreary voice. "The concert from last night took a lot longer than I thought it would. They did three encores for the crowd and the meet and greet took more than an hour - I think maybe two and a half. Not to mention we had to find Duff at the after party too. We didn't get to the tour bus until eight this morning."

"Sounds like an eventful night," mom snorted. I hid my smile behind my hand.

"Tell me about it," Shawn groaned. "I hate to admit it but I think I'm getting too old for this. Maybe after the end of this tour, I'll retire from the band life and go back to posting for the 'Hit the Road' website. At least there weren't so many screaming fans when I did that job."

Mom giggled. "If it's what makes you happy somehow, babe. Anyway, I called you for very important news."

"Oh yeah?" Shawn yawned, leaning his head back on what I can identify as a couch and scratching his uncombed hair. "What about?"

"Hang on…"

Mom kept the screen facing her as she handed me her phone and I gingerly held it that way for a moment, a sense of hesitation crawling through me. It might not have felt like so much time flowed by to me, but it had been an eternity for Shawn. Then, after a deep breath, I turned the screen towards me and formed a shy smile at the buffering video of my step-father coming into focus as the connection went through.

Shawn's immediate reaction was an astonished gasp and he sat upright on the couch. I could hear some of the bandmates asking him if he was okay (all the while I am holding down the teen in me who is squealing in excitement) but he has his eyes trained on me, roaming over my face as if trying to find some sort of sign saying he was dream, that I was not real. Then his eyes glistened and his lips trembled but he quickly took a deep breath to keep his composure together.

"No way," he breathed out. "M...Maya?"

"Hi dad," I said with a grin. "Long time, no see."

"Maya, you...you're…" Shawn then lets out a merry laugh. "Kid, you...I don't believe it. You're awake. You don't know how much we've missed you. I got a call telling me they were going to - ah, forget about it. You're awake!"

I felt my heart swell at the sight of the man who gave back the many fatherless years I had to go through and showered me with endless fatherly love. He gave me new experiences, new perspective in life, new style in clothes, newer support in my dream to study the arts, and a new beginning of life with a newly improved family. And to know that I lost twelve years of something I've wanted for years has torn my heart.

"And you're touring with our favorite band," I laughed, sniffling slightly, and then glanced up at my mom over the phone. "And you're a manager in the movie industry. How'd that happen?"

Mom chuckled. "I had to go back to college to get a bachelor's degree in theater and arts management. I managed to get a second job as a catering crew member and worked my way up - I was still working at Topanga's at the time. Because of my experience from that hit movie I did years ago, I was able to climb up the ladder quicker than ever. Before you know it, I'm a casting director and managing people."

"And I got the offer to tour with bands for photography," Shawn added. "Their manager, Vicky Hamilton, called me up one day saying she needed a new photographer for the band since their old one quit and somebody from my work had recommended me. They showed them some of my pictures of people who paid me for weddings, bat mitzvahs, and other events, and they couldn't pass me up. It took me a while to take the offer but Cory and your mother convinced me to go."

"I'm glad you took the chance to go," I said. "Both of you; you're doing something you love and I couldn't be so proud of you than I am now. I'm glad to know that you did so many things for yourselves."

"We knew you would be," said mom. "Although, I won't lie, we did do most of these things to keep ourselves distracted. The past few years were our toughest."

I frowned. "I missed a lot of years I didn't get to spend with you two."

"Doesn't mean you can't spend the next with us," added Shawn. I looked at him to see him giving me a comforting smile that I couldn't help but make my own smile. "Now that you're back, we could retire and act like a bunch of old folks." He paused and looked taken aback. "Did I really just say that?"

I laughed. "Yeah, you did. Are you coming home soon anytime? Riley said you have until next month for the tour to be over."

"Yeah, but I think I can come home early after the next two shows," he said. "After the last concert, it'll all be just interviews and guest appearances for events after. They don't need photos of that. I'll talk to Vicky about it."

"And I'll see if maybe I could reschedule some of meetings with potential clients for the rest of next month so we could have a family day," mom joined. Her voice was covered in dried tears and she sounded like she was going to cry again but she just sounded poignant. "I'm still in shock to see you awake and talking, baby girl. I don't even know what to say about all of this - I just - we thought you were never going to wake up again. It's been -"

"It's been a little hard without you around," Shawn finished; he could probably hear the difficulty in mom's voice.

I offered a calming smile. "I'm just glad to be back," I said, trying to keep my voice was breaking at the end of my sentence.

"Oh, honey," cooed mom as she wrapped her arms around me and cradled my head to her chest, stroking my hair with her manicured fingers. I closed my eyes momentarily while I listened to the familiar, comforting feeling of her thumping heart - the same one I had fallen asleep to many times whenever I had a nightmare or needed to have a good cry to let all of my emotions out.

"C'mon, don't cry, kid," Shawn consulted, his voice fuzzy through the corrupted connection. "You'll make your mother cry, too. I'm bad at handling crying women through a video call worse than I am in person."

His comment brought a giggle out of me and a small chuckle out of my mother as we parted from our loving embrace. I looked at the phone screen, seeing Shawn's image seem a bit disoriented in pixels.

"What's it like touring with the band?" I questioned. "Are you with Slash right now? Is he just as amazing playing the guitar live as he is in the albums?"

"It's absolute insanity," Shawn answered. "Being with them backstage is a whole other world. Maybe one day, for one of their concerts, I could string up a couple of VIP's for you. Your mother already met them but she didn't need my help with that. One of her clients are actually childhood friends with the bassist. Can you believe that?"

"Hardly," I huffed. "Did you get to meet any of your favorite actresses, mom?"

"Hmm." Mom tapped her cheek with her finger, a look of contemplation masked over her face. "I got to meet Julia Roberts on a set for a movie - I met Emma Watson for a presentation for her HeForShe foundation - Kristen Stewart for a meeting for her to be one of my clients - Jennifer Lawrence during an audition. But my favorite had to be meeting Jennifer Aniston at a coffee shop on a random day. She is such a humble person. The media can be so misleading."

I could feel a fluttering sensation in the pit of my stomach but it was not the bad kind. It was the best kind where I felt my ego burst for these two amazing people I am lucky to call my parents because they are living out careers that made them happy, kept them going forward since the incident, and that made me feel good. Just seeing Shawn sitting in a couch on a tour bus and my mother dressed in professional clothes made me feel more alive than I could ever remember feeling.

"Man, kid, I can't wait till -" Shawn suddenly stopped as a light murmuring was heard from the background and he turned to the sound. "Maya, I'm so sorry but I gotta go. Vicky is calling me in for the band's rehearsal, but hey, how about later - if your mom is with you - we can talk all night like we used to? Sound good?"

I nodded eagerly. "Sounds like a plan."

"Good. I'll talk to you later, sweetheart."

"See you later, dad."

After exchanging a farewell, I tapped on the "END CALL" and handed the phone back to my mother. She quickly shoved it back in her pocket and shifted closer to me to take my hand in hers. I made my grip tight because I was afraid that this might be a dream within a dream and then I'd wake up to find myself alone in this hospital room, leaving me wilting away in sorrow like a flower. But the infectious smile on my mother's face has me grounded.

"If you take a picture, it'll last longer," I said jokingly.

"I've looked at too many," she countered. "Looking at the real thing is much more refreshing."

"Oh mom," I sighed as I brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I'm so sorry you had to go through all of this."

"Don't be sorry," she chuckled with little humor. "Nobody knew that terrorist attack was going to happen. Not even you. I'm just glad that they didn't manage to take you away from me for good." She held up the bag she had tied to her wrist. "I passed by the old diner on the way here. Figured it'd be the best way to welcome you back."

Mom placed the bag on my lap and undid the knot on her wrist before she opened it to pull out a foam container with an inviting aroma surfacing from it. My mouth was watery by the time I held it in my hands and when I flipped it open, the biggest smile was formed on my face as I admired the sight of the most heaven-like creation meant to be devoured by a hungry person like me; Nighthawk Diner's infamous Tuna Melt.

"I'm surprised that place is still open," I said playfully. "I thought they'd burn to the ground after you quit and went to Topanga's."

"Don't say that," she retorted amusingly, giving me a light tap on my leg. "The place was running fine way before I started working there."

I rolled my eyes and twisted around in a more comfortable angle to face her. "But you brought in more customers when you worked there. Everybody loved being served by you whether it was your charismatic services or your flirtatious ways with that waitress uniform."

"Maya Hart!" mom gasped in false incredulity. "You know that's not true!"

"Sure it's not," I replied sarcastically. "And it's Maya Hunter," I added. "Last time I checked, a very special man in your life, one who you are currently married to, has adopted me back at my freshmen year in high school, and neither you or I have been a 'Hart' for a long time now."

"Thank God," she sighed in relief. "I didn't know if you remembered that or not. I read that people tend to have memory loss when it comes to head traumas so I was mentally prepared for you to not remember Shawn or anybody else in case it went that far back."

"I don't think I could ever forget anybody," I said honestly.

Mom placed her hand on mine and gave me a genuine smile. "I know you wouldn't. I still needed to be prepared of the possibilities that life throws at us. But just know that whether it went down that way, I'd still love you the same like I always have for the past thirty-one years."

"I love you too, mom."

And I really did. I truly love this woman with every ounce of my heart and every fiber of my being. I regret those days when I used to resent her because I thought she had been the fault of my biological father leaving us and because I did not have a decent childhood like all my friends did. I still have loads to thank her for her sacrifices, even after I got a job during my sophomore year and helped her financially, I don't consider it enough for all that she went through for me.

"You want half of my tuna melt?" I held up one side up to her. "We could eat and talk like old times."

Mom beamed. "I would love that."

Mom took a set of plastic plates from the bag, along with wrapped utensils, and fixed up separate halves for us before she made a quick trip to the cafeteria to get bottles of water for us. She even brought two cartons of Edy's ice cream (vanilla for her and chocolate for me). We sat facing each other, legs crossed, our plates and ice cream placed between us on the sheets, and taking mouthfuls of the tuna melts.

"Can I know how you guys managed for the past years?" I asked carefully, watching her intently. I knew it wasn't all rainbows and sunshine like they seemed through the video call, that they put up their facade to not have me worried about their relationship like I used to be, and I knew she knew I wasn't the kind to fall for sugar-coated stories.

"In all honesty, baby girl, we were in a rut," she answered wistfully. "Shawn and I were in denial about you being in a coma for a while and when the reality of it set in, the guilt came in. We didn't exactly communicate so well about it and we ended up fighting most of the time. I'd take extra shifts at the diner - Shawn taking longer trips for his articles. We'd avoid each other if we're ever in the same room and we got used to be away from each other."

I inhaled deeply. "I'm getting the feeling this story is going to take a turn for the worst," I murmured softly then took a bite out of my tuna melt. I watched as mom's face slowly turned more bitter and her eyes dulled in misery.

"It did," she continued. "Eventually, I began to get suspicious of why Shawn has been coming home late so often and when I decided to confront him one night, I found him stumbling in all drunk."

I heard my intake of breath.

A couple of years ago, back at my sophomore year, when I was going through a phrase of being peer pressured into drinking by the drama club I had joined, Shawn had told me a story about a time he was going through a bad case of alcoholism. He explained to me about how he had been drinking for a week and nobody, not even Cory, noticed - how he fought with Uncle Jack about calling Grandpa Chet an abusive drunk - how he harmed his then girlfriend, Angela, when drunk - and how much he regrets for the pain he caused for his actions.

Shawn saved me with his story before I considered in taking the chance of drinking illegally and I never touched a glass of alcohol in my life. I don't think I even want to drink now that I am of age because I don't want to find out what kind of drunk I can be. But knowing that Shawn fell into that old habit of his, that sick depressive addiction, and learning what kind he is made me tremble in terror for my mother. I was scared to hear where this story could be going because I know I could not picture Shawn being the type to hurt my mother and because I know if he did then I might not be able to see him as the secure person I see him as.

"I was so upset with him for going back to that point and I told him how I felt about it and we ended up having a fight," mom kept on. "Things got heated and...then, um...well, Shawn, he...he sort of shoved me."

I had to spit out the bite I've taken because I started to choke on it and then took a two large gulps of water when my mother gave me the bottle. She had to give me a few pats on the back as a precaution.

"He...he what?" I panted, staring at her skeptically. I couldn't see it or I didn't want to see it; Shane, slurring his words, red eyes, and unsteady balance, shoving my mother, the woman he declared his love to and treated her like she was the greatest treasure on the highest pedestal.

"I know, I know," mom tried to reassure me. "It came as a shock to me too. I stayed over at Topanga's for a week before he came to apologize."

"But Shawn...Dad, he...he…"

"He didn't do any real damage, baby girl," mom said. "It was only a light shove. Besides we're past it now. The way he apologized was more than enough and really sincere. He took me to Le Bernardin, single table in a private room, and we talked about _everything_. We let out all that we've been feeling - being away from each other, hurt about you bring in a coma, and the way we've been dealing with it. Ever since then there hasn't been an incident like that again. We've helped each other through it all - I made sure Shawn didn't get near whiskey again - he made sure I didn't overwork myself. Soon we're doing things to keep ourselves distracted with things that didn't remind us of you and we ended where we are now."

"Oh, mom…" I reached for her hand with both of mines and soothen her knuckles with my fingers. "Look at me."

She complied. I leaned forward to make sure my eye contact with her, to let her see the thousand emotions running through me for her, for Shawn, for their marriage, and for our family. I tightened my hold on her hand.

"I promise, mom, that as long as I'm here, I won't let anything happen to you," I declared. "I won't let Shawn bounce back to his old addiction - I won't let you guys fall apart like that again - and I won't let anything take me away like that again. You can count on it."

And it was the truth. My whole life I've only ever wanted was to have my own family. A father who would be protective of me when it comes to my potential boyfriends, to wrestle around with during sports night, having have playful banters with, and to give me away on my future wedding day. A mother who I could come to for girl talks, to tease my father jokingly for his mistakes and embarrass him, to have a girl's day out with, to help me find the best prom dress, to help me plan my wedding, and to find the perfect wedding dress.

And I finally have all of that. I blindly hoped for it and it came true. It took a long while to have that dream come true but it did and I did everything I could in the past to make sure it stayed alive.

Life is going to have to do a lot more than a coma to snatch this away from me.

"I promise," I repeated.

"Oh Maya…baby girl…"

Mom reached over our food to wrap her arms around me in a steel grasp and I fell into the holy feeling of a motherly embrace I've been deprived of for so long.

This moment was a reminder that not everything in the universe was exactly terrible as it is trying to make out. This is the one thing in the world that is the most valuable to find and have daily; a mother's hug full of love and care. It is rare nowadays because some parents don't care about their children until they're lying lifelessly in their coffin or if they're escorted home in the middle of the night by a policemen for drinking illegally and shoving heroin into their body.

Their love isn't true until the couple of minutes of watching their child's body being lowered in their grave and the next day they are found in a bar, drunkenly getting into the car of a stranger, and leading said stranger into their home to have a night of ecstasy that they won't remember in the morning.

But I do have the best kind of love from my mother that is unconditional and unbreakable despite my mistakes and the possibilities of me never waking up again. She loved me even with the thought of me not knowing who she is or me never coming back alive. How many children in the world can say that now?

"I love you, mom," I whispered into her ear because I know my voice is probably choked up by my tears and I didn't want to alert her with how weak I could sound.

"I love you too, Maya."

And I hope she knows that having her as my mother is the most beyond amazing gift she has given me.

* * *

 **Please Review!**


	5. Chapter Four: Motivation

**A/N:** I do not own Girl Meets World, the characters, the locations, the songs, or the quotes mentioned in it. But I do own the plot.

* * *

 _Out on the ocean sailing away_

 _I can hardly wait_

 _To see you come of age_

 _But I guess we'll both just have to be patient_

 _'Cause it's a long way to go_

 _A hard row to hoe_

 _Yes, it's a long way to go_

 _But in the meantime_

\- Beautiful Boy; John Lennon

* * *

 _"The soul is healed by being with children."_

― Fyodor Dostoyevsky

* * *

 **Chapter Four: Motivation**

 _160 pounds._

I stepped off the scale with a proud smile and weakly trudged to the mirror in a slow manner, using any rail or the wall itself to keep myself upright then slowly wiped away the accumulated steam to take a better look of myself. What I saw brings me great relief.

It had been a week since I woken up from my coma and my physical appearance had changed drastically in a short time period. Before I had been thinner, too blatantly skinny, my skin looked colorless, my lips were chapped, my eyes were baggy, and my cheeks were hollow, but now my skin came back to a normal pale complexion, my lips were pink and luscious again, my eyes were back in normal shape, and my cheeks were full. I was recognizable only I looked older.

After splashing a handful of water to my face and washing away the grogginess, I grabbed the clutches I've been ordered to use whenever I needed to use the bathroom or wanted to take a stroll around the building, and hobbled back into the room, deciding to finish the meal that the nurse had brought. It was the typical meal only the hospital allowed - a bowl of oatmeal with a glass of white milk - mostly because they wouldn't allow Riley or mom to smuggle in any of my favorite meals.

However, as I gazed at the small table holding up the meal, I chose to take a quick tour around the hospital again. I took the tall glass of milk in a silent toast before I tipped my head back for one large swing then slammed the glass back on the table, now empty, saved by a few residual droplets and wiped the mustache on my upper lip. I never drink such things without the sugary taste of cereal, but admittedly, milk wasn't so bad. I looked at the bowl of oatmeal; I wasn't particularly picky about my food but the rest of my meal looked grossly dank in comparison to the ones Riley and mom would bring me, and my appetite didn't seem so big. I was actually craving for more milk.

A knocking came abruptly that I nearly staggered over my clutches but I regained my composure as the door open and I turned to see a rather thick woman wearing a black shirt, leggings, and comfortable sneakers. She gaze down at me - yes, down at me because she seemed a couple of inches taller than me - with an unusually shade of bronze eyes and she was tapping her foot, an air of patience. I didn't know who she was but I felt threatened by her - she was gorgeous in the sense of grown into sophistication and dignity.

"Can I help you?" I asked, my eyes trailing down to the stuffed sports bag settled by her worn sneakers. She picked it up and slung it over her surprisingly broad shoulders, impressing me that she could carry such a weight.

"Hi, I'm Tracy Jennings," she introduced herself. "I'm going to be your trainer for the next few days to help you get back on your feet. You're Maya Hart, right?"

"Hunter," I mumbled. "Maya Hunter. And I thought my sessions didn't start until after they finished their exams on me."

"They concluded them done yesterday," she answered cheerfully as she slipped into the room and walked in front of the television overhead, looking at the game show I had stumbled on earlier. "Dr. Miller called me this morning to provide you with some health care. You know, to check up on your incision - work on your physical therapy - all that good stuff."

"I caught that," I pointed out.

"Dr. Miller said that you still need to take it easy with excessive workout so the process will be slow and you can't try to overdo the exercises either," she said. "Also, it may take roughly around two weeks for your therapy to be done. I have other patients I will need to attend as well. Just expect me coming here at least two times for three days a week. Oh, and by the way, you've got a little something on your lips." she added lastly.

I blushed out of embarrassment and felt my hand, raising my hand to see a white, frosty substance on my fingers. I hastily wiped it off with the sleeve of my pajamas.

"Let's get started, shall we?" Tracy said. "Take a seat so I can check your incision, Ms. Hart, er, sorry, Hunter."

A couple of weeks ago, the doctor had been convinced with the thought of checking my head for any signs damage to my skull or my brain and had me go through another surgery to make sure I was well. My parents, and Riley did not like the idea but they left their faith in the doctor to keep me alive.

"Just Maya is fine," I said plainly, taking a seat on one of the suede sofas and placed the crutches on the floor beside me. I supposed that I might as well let someone check on the wound - Riley had put it in my head that my would could be get infected by bacteria and I wanted to be sure it didn't, which was unlikely, but it was better safe than sorry.

Tracy kneeled in front of me and leaned forward to undo the bandages around the crown of my head. I shifted uncomfortably once my scalp was exposed to the chilly air, wondering if my small bald spot looked at horrible as I feel to have it, but Tracy inspected it professionally, careful to keep her touch delicate and kind. As she reached for something in her bag, I noticed a sparkle glint off of her finger.

"You're married," I pointed out.

"Oh, this," Tracy chuckled lightheartedly, her features softening as she gazed upon the symbol of her marriage. "Yeah, I've been married for over fifteen years. Just celebrated our anniversary two days ago."

"Congratulations," I said with a fake smile. In a way it bothered me; I wake up from a long sleep and almost everybody is married or engaged while I am here trying to adjust to a new life in the future. I watched in hidden envy and slight amusement as she blushed heatedly like a schoolgirl and averted her life, which were clouded with a haze of adoration for the man she is committed to.

"Thank you," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind one ear before she looked back at me with a bright gleam in her eyes. "Hey, would you like to me to grow back your hair?"

I raised a brow. "You could do that?"

"Yeah, I definitely could. I made this special cream of mine that gives a little nudge to the growth cells, and I've used it on myself before so I know it works. It's also medically approved so you don't need to worry about it being local. Are you by any chance allergic to almond nuts?"

"I'm allergic to walnuts."

I silently agreed to the procedure. Tracy pulled out a small container from her bag, popped it open, took a small amount of the pinkish-colored cream, and started to smear it over the small bald spot on my head. To my astonishment, the cream felt warm against my scalp and left a tingling sensation.

"Who taught you to make this?" I asked out of sheer curiosity, resisting the temptation to rub my head where the cream is coated, relishing the feel of enjoyment to be able to have a new set of hair. The cushion next to me sunk as Tracy sat down, letting out a deep breath, the pale flesh of her dotted perspiration. She looked physically drained - I wonder how much sessions she had before she came to me.

"No, I made it myself," she said. "It took a couple of failed test but I was able to find the perfect amount for it. After chemo, I wasn't digging the whole bald look very well so I took matters into my own hands and I have a new set of hair in a week."

My breath was caught in my throat as I stared at her incredulously. _Chemo? As in chemotherapy?"_

"So...you have cancer?"

"Had," she corrected with a tired smile. "I had chronic myeloid leukemia seven years ago. Not something you want to go through. But, hey, I managed to fight through it - I'm a cancer survivor. If an little old woman like me can get back on her feet after God knows how many rounds of chemo then I bet you can get through this therapy. You'll be just fine, Maya."

"Thank you, Tracy. I appreciate it."

"No problem. Now what do you say we get started on today's session?"

"Let's do it."

I smiled kindly at her. Her words have helped me, for the first time in a long while, to begin hoping better for my future.

* * *

I immediately began to regret my decision after a whole hour of vigorous training had begun and I wanted to take back my word.

"Come on, Maya! Just five more to go! Don't you give up on me!"

If anyone had walked by, peeked in the training center I am currently imprisoned in, and saw the scene being played before them, I hope they saw me as a defenseless little animal being tortured enough to want to save me because I honestly did feel like one. If not then I hope the noises being strangled out of me would convince them otherwise and I'd be back to my comfortable bed, safe and sound from any unwanted exercise.

I was lying on a yoga mat, turned onto my side, my knees bent, and one resting on top of the other. This exercise would have been stupidly easy for me in gym class back in high school - I just had to raise my upper knee away from the other and hold the position for exactly ten seconds. But raising my leg even a few inches in my current state took nearly everything out of me.

"Don't break!" encouraged Tracy over me as she paced around me like a vulture gliding over its dinner. "If you wanna recover, you need to hold it! Do you wanna walk again or not?"

I learned that Tracy was far worse than my old gym teacher, Coach Webber, because, not only does she not have anyone else to supervise, but because she does not allow me to waste of breath lying still instead of pushing me beyond my limits. She was like my personal cheerleader also - she certainly looked the part, wearing a pair of track pants and a short sleeved top that is fr too bright to be in the room we're in.

"I...do!" I grunted as I lifted my leg into the air, his face scrunching up into sheer pain by the exertion the simple act is making me go through. Salty beads of sweat was pouring out on every angle of my body.

I too was wearing clothes meant for these intense exercises; a pair of yoga pants, a sports bra, and some tennis shoes that could be mistaken to nurse's shoes. Even with the appropriate apparel, my lungs felt like they were set on fire with every wheeze, and my leg felt like it has a thousand needles pierced into my veins as I struggled to maintain in position.

"Hold it - _hold it!_ " exclaimed Tracy while kneeling next to me to have her mouth near my ear as she continued, "All you have to do it one more and you're done for the hour! Hold it!"

A gasp broke out of me as I held up my smoldering leg once more, my eyes screwed shut as a way to block out the pain. I wasn't sure how I was able to pass by the first ten seconds of this session but I was certain that it was the thought of going home sooner to my parents and Riley that is urging me to embrace the aching torment. I wanted to get out of this illness ward, avoid the people hacking out their lungs and hearing news of lives being passed on and seeing weeping families mourning over their loss.

"Hold your leg there...hold it…" said Tracy firmly, her breath puffing into my ear. "And - rest!"

For some unfathomable reason, I did not release when she commanded. I continued despite the hurt with durable willpower and heavy determination. I repeated the motion exactly five more times before I finally let go and dropped on the mat in exhaustion, my breathing ponderous. I aimlessly reached my hand out and grabbed the water bottle to swallow a well-deserved drink before I squirted some of the liquid over my face, leaning my head in relief as I savored the feel of my heated skin being cooled down and my parched throat being refreshed.

I glanced upward to see Tracy staring down at me with a proud smile as I hydrated myself. She waited for a few moments before she held out her hand to me and I gratefully took it, allowing her to haul me up into her arms since my legs are numb. She dragged me to one of the benches nearby the window and pushed it open to let me breathe in the natural air of the city as I slumped back into the cushions in relaxation.

"I'm really impressed, Maya," she said. "You've quickly done three exercises in an hour. That's a new record in my book. I have a good feeling that it might take a week and a half of therapy before you're walking out of here like a new woman."

"How is this even considered 'therapy'?" I questioned after I caught my breath. A portion of my face felt hot and a few strands of my hair matted on my forehead by sweat. "I mean...I thought therapies are supposed to be gentle. You know; me lying on that weirdly-shaped couch and you asking me ' _How do you feel about that?'_ when I tell you about my problems. This feels like gym class all over again."

Tracy chuckled. "You should know by now I'm not your average therapist. Matter of fact, don't even consider me a therapist. Think of me as a physical nurse." She brought out another water bottle from her bag on the bench and uncapped the lid. "There's a reason why Dr. Miller hired me for you. I get the job done quickly and efficiently."

"I don't know if I should be grateful or resentful about this," I mumbled. "But, whatever works, right?"

"That's the enthusiasm," Tracy said sardonically.

"Bite me."

"Take a five and we'll go through one more exercise."

I looked at her in shock. "I thought you said that would be the last one!"

"For the hour," she retorted. "You still have me for another three hours, Hunter!"

My shocked face changed into a disappointed glare as she walked over to the other side of the room and looked through the options of the vending machine. It shouldn't be that much of a hard decision to make; all there was is an assortment of fruits, mostly apples and oranges. She really was a fitness freak.

I chose to look through my phone in the meantime. I scrolled through Facebook first. There were many posts on my wall from my old classmates wishing me to get better soon and many kinds of GIF's of funny cartoons with balloons. Even my relatives were sharing their condolences for my parents, tagged me in pictures where I visited them for family reunions or summer trips as a memory, and others shared their deepest feelings for me through statuses. I am fairly surprised to see some of my cousins have grown up well into young adults, some of my uncles or aunts have gotten divorced and are currently in a new relationship, and to see some of my classmates have achieved a lot over the years.

Next, I went through my Instagram account and I immediately greeted to my last post. June 2nd, 2019 - the day when the terrorist happened and I fell into coma. It was a selfie I took of me, my parents, the Matthews, Riley and I beaming brightly while we were on our way to drop me off to the airport. It was bizarre to see how young and innocent we seemed when I looked myself in the mirror and see another woman that did not look anywhere near as youthful as that girl in the picture.

I went through the feed and melancholic feeling sunk in the pit of my stomach as I looked through the latest post of my friends and acquaintances. Some of them are hardly recognizable to me. Others have gotten out of the closet like I predicted in the past. Half of them are married with children. The other half are either still single and are caring for a child. It terrified me to know I woke up into the future. I grew up too fast without growing at all while everybody else evolved in their own time as their own pace.

Everyone has their lives set. Sarah seems to be in a long-term relationship with a guy she met during college named Peyton - Darby had started a musical career by competing in _The Voice_ and is now a judge of the show. Yogi finally hit a growth spurt and he is a producer for a hit comedy show that is now going on its fourth season. Asher and Dylan - who I met during my second trip back to Texas with the group and finally met - are working in their father's farm like they always wanted to and are in a steady marriage with two wonderful women. Aubrey was a successful lawyer like she was inspired to be by Topanga. Sage was a tour guide in Hong Kong, recently engaged.

Everybody I had known through the years have made their lives; breathed, cherished, and lived. I couldn't help but be a little jealous.

I searched for my friend's accounts. The first ones I looked for were Farkle and Smackle. They hardly post much like they usually did. There were only three to five pictures of them in their new life in England. They looked like tourists standing in front of Buckingham Palace, the Big Ben, and the London Eye with comical grins - I wonder how many people looked at them. But overall, they did look happy. They have clearly understood more about human affection and feelings because I would see pictures of them kissing each other's cheeks or Farkle hugging her from behind. I wanted to know why they aren't married yet, let alone engaged. They're the only couple I know from the group who lasted so long.

Next I went to Zay's profile. His was the most impressive so far. His feed was decorated with photographs of screenshots old films, random pictures of who I assume to be his new friends in the broadway show, and stills of himself. My favorite picture would have to be the one with the caption _Social Mugshot_ because the highlight of the picture was outstanding and he looked quite handsome; he was bearing baibo beard and his hair was actually a little longer. He didn't look like the Zay Babineaux I knew with the idiotic grin, the flirtatious attitude, and the mischievous eyes. This one has responsibilities of a parent and taxes to worry about.

How foreign.

I went to Riley's profile next and it didn't reveal much about her life except for the one picture of her hand showing her engagement ring. The majority are just pictures with book quotes and her attending some events.

It got me pondering what Riley does for her career. She never revealed what she does and who she was committed to - I never gave her the chance to. I would need to ask her the next time she comes to visit.

Then I went to Lucas' and I was shocked to see that he had deleted all of his pictures except for the group photo we had taken one time in middle school at Topanga's. But the rest were gone. Memories of our many adventures were erased. I couldn't believe he did that - he cherished those days more than anyone. I would understand if he took off the ones of him and Riley when they were a couple but what about the ones when they were friends? The ones of him and Zay visiting Texas? The ones of him and Farkle taking the other to science fairs or sports events to bond? The ones of him and Smackle during a study group? And the ones of me and him during after school activities? Where did they all go?

I quickly left his profile, a pang of hurt pinching in my chest, and went to Josh's profile to see if maybe he posted about his job. I instantly regret it and the ache in my heart expanded tenfold - I wanted to cry.

He was still into riding bikes despite the accident he got into back in his second year of college and the scar he bears on his lower abdomen. He still takes a couple of camping trips, still hikes wondrously around the forest, still go to bonfires with his close friends from high school, still goes to the same diner that is styled from the 1950's, and he still wears that leather jackets I adore seeing him in. He even got the patriot tattoo he said he always wanted. He also has pictures of him wearing his architect uniform - he looked very charming.

He was doing everything he loves. He was living the life he desired all along. He was making the future he and I had talked about. He was happy and I was happy for him because he no longer felt isolated in a big city of people sharing a room with someone he isn't fond of.

But I am not happy to see that he is sharing it all with a woman who is not me.

She was a pretty little thing, probably in the same age or older than Josh, with natural brown hair on the top and blonde highlight in the bottom, catlike cocoa eyes, and a gentle face in a tan complexion. She wears a style similar to Josh and me combined with the leather jackets, the flannel shirts, the dark ripped jeans, the combat boots, and the trademark beanie. She does have a dazzling smile and her dimples were attractive. She looked like the kind of girl that Josh would be involved with if I wasn't around - which I technically wasn't - and he seems to truly love her by the affections I see him showing in the pictures and by the ring I can see wrapped around her finger.

Josh is engaged. And it isn't to me. He is bound to be married. And not to me. He is going to start a family. And I won't be the one bearing the children.

I shut off the phone and tossed it on the bench before I could push myself into another crying fit. I was feel with so many emotions clashing against each other erratically. I didn't know what to think. All I could do was feel anger, humiliation, betrayal, sadness, and depressed. I was angry at Riley for not telling me about Josh moving on as soon as she told me about him. I felt humiliated because I always thought and stated he was the one guy for me but I can see I was not the one girl for him. I felt betrayed by Josh for finding someone new while I was comatosed - I know that was selfish. I felt sadness about Josh sharing all of his passions to this new girl, bringing her home to dinner with his parents, taking her out for dates, and proposing to her. And I felt depression because I was truly held behind.

I sniffled a little and looked out of the window to the big city. It was an exceptional view to the streets below; people were idly walking down the sidewalks, workers were going to clock in, coming back from their jobs, leaving for their break, or returning from their break, and couples were going to their dates or coming home with their dates. There were even mothers with their best friends pushing their baby strollers while talking and fathers, wearing a baseball attire, walking with their children while carrying their equipment and laughing heartedly.

All of these people are different. They never met each other. Yet they all have one thing in common; they grew up with someone from their childhood and are facing life together. Unlike me.

Suddenly, something dropped onto my lap, startling me out of my thoughts, and I looked down to see it was a bag of sliced apples with a side of caramel dipping. Next to me, Tracy drops onto the bench and starts to munch on a large bite of her peach.

"Penny for your thoughts?" she asked.

I played with the corners of the bag. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"When you were doing chemotherapy...how'd you manage to go on with life?"

"I don't know what you mean. Like how I learned to live?"

"Like how were you able to live life when it wouldn't let you? It must have been hard. There must have been moments where you couldn't share with your husband or your family or friends. How were you able to do that?"

Tracy sighed and put her snack aside to give me her full attention. She pursed her lips with contemplation gleaming off her eyes. I also put my uneaten snack on the side and twisted my body to face her directly. She let out a nervous chuckle and scratched the back of her head shyly.

"Alright, I'm not good at this sort of thing," she admitted sheepishly. "So don't judge me."

I giggled. "I won't."

"Okay," she sighed. "So having cancer is obviously no walk in the park. And you're not wrong to ask; there were times where I'd miss some of the most important lives of the people I love. My sister's recital - my mother's second wedding - my cousin's birthday - basic things but still meaningful. It was devastating. I soon fell into depression; I didn't want to do chemo anymore, I didn't want to be cured. I just wanted to come home."

I nodded to let her know I was still listening.

"Eventually I started to lash out at everyone, accusing them for seeing me as a charity case, getting mad at them for their kindness, thinking they're just being nice because of my condition," she continued. "I started to push everyone away and wallow myself in pity. I thought that I didn't have a reason to keep trying if in the end I'm only going to end up missing up the good things in life and never get cured. I just holed myself up in my room, waiting for that day to come, and get over with it."

"But you almost gave up," I said.

"I almost did...then my sister got in a car accident. She survived but she ended up getting a broken leg on the week of her final recital and she never got the chance to even go see how it turned up. She ended up spending the time with me, all sad. I tried to make her feel better with everything I could because I love her and I hate not seeing her as her little dorky self. Every day I did everything she liked or would cheer her up. I was taking care of her when it should have been the other way around and when she was pushing me away, I realized what it is that I put everybody through."

"And I'm guessing that you learned your lesson then? You learned to love life?"

"I learned to appreciate what life could give me to love it," she said. She then brought her arm around my shoulders, rubbing her thumb against my skin. "Maya, I know that you're overwhelmed with everything that's going on. Life is way too ahead of you and you just want some way to make it stop so you can catch up. I know - I've been there."

I licked my lips. "So how you managed?"

Tracy smiled freely. "You enjoy what life offers," she said. "Even if it's twelve years late. And I think it still has a lot to offer by giving you a second chance to enjoy them. That's what I did and look at me now; a sole cancer survivor cleaning out her bucket list and not even halfway done."

I sniggered a little at her witty comment. I must admit that hearing her story did help me feel a bit better. It was the kind of bittersweet tales that makes you feel bad for the character but at the same time still hold that grain of hope that the best will come for them and then feel that ounce of pride to learn the good did come to them at last. I enjoyed the message she gave me from her story; good will come through the bad. And I believe it. Looking back at my childhood, I did get the good in my life and I had started out the worst way possible.

"Thanks Tracy," I said.

"No problem," she said kindly as she rose on her feet and stretched out her impressive muscles. "Now your five minutes are up. Time to do the warm up and move on to the next exercise."

I groaned loudly, tossing my head back against the glass. This was way worst than gym class. I'd rather take my chances up with Coach Webber and his meaningless track runs.

"Get up!"

"My legs don't work!"

"Alrightly then!"

I didn't even see her move; I let out a small yelp as I felt a hard tug on my arm and I find myself leaning over Tracy's back as she carried me to another side of the room, my feet dragging across the hardwood. She was holding my arms over her shoulders like a bag strap, grasping on my wrists.

"Hey, this is not right!" I yelled in her ear. "You're making me do something I don't wanna do! This is a violation of my rights!"

All I got in response was Tracy laughing obnoxiously loud as she continue to dragged me to set of tools that bring me utter pain just by looking at it and I gulped nervously whilst I prepared myself for my inevitable fate.

* * *

And my fate was not something worth facing.

The rails shook as my strain fingers held onto them like they were my lifeline. Many drops of sweat ran down on my flushed face and my chest was heaving heavily. Too much pain. I swallowed a huge breath before I forced myself to lift my right leg and fought it forward, letting out a small cry as I brought it down with much exerted strength. Pain increased.

"That's great, Maya!" cheered Tracy. "That was your seventh step! Only a few more to make it to the end and we're done for the day!"

I body started to sway slightly. "T-tired…" I panted.

"C'mon, Maya," urged Tracy. "If you can't get through this then you won't be able to walk again. This is the first step to walking like a free woman again. Do you want that?"

"Uh…" I looked at the rails then at the end of the path nervously. _Could I be able to do this again?_

I exhaled slowly and started again; one leg after another, slowly and steady, calm and collected. It's like riding a bike even if I never really had one before and I never learned how to ride one since I usually took the subway for transportation. I felt like a toddler learning to take her first steps all over again.

I was about to make another attempt to take my ninth step when my fingers slipped from rails and I ended up dropping onto the mat. I let out a feeble 'ow' before I pushed myself up as Tracy's hurried steps approached me and she kneeled beside me to help me.

"Are you alright?" she asked worriedly; I nodded although I was still panting. "Okay, let's take a little break."

Tracy carefully lifted me up on my shaking legs and guided me back to the bench. She pulled out a water bottle for me and I did not hesitation to down almost the whole thing in three large gulps before I dumped the rest on my face, soaking my heated skin in hopes it would cool down. Having it wet my shirt, sticking the fabric to my torso, was like a cold compress to my heaving chest and made it easier for me to breathe.

"S...sorry, Tracy," I gasped out. "Guess I don't...have...have it in me."

Her eyes soften. "Don't be sorry. You didn't do anything wrong. I should have taken it easy on you; you need to rest up a lot more than I thought. You have only been awake for a week now."

My lips formed a small, exhausted frown. "What if...I never walk again?"

"Don't say that, Hunter," she retorted. "You're going to walk."

"Have you ever had a person who never learned to walk again?"

"Three times. But those are because they didn't put their heart into it and gave up. You, on the other hand, are giving it everything you got. I can see it. There's something in there," she pointed at the spot on my chest where my heart is slowly reducing into its normal state, "that's encouraging you to do it and because of that, I know you will."

She wasn't wrong. There is something in my heart that is devoted to me going through this long road of recovery. It is the memories of everybody that is enclosed in it. The times where I ran and walked with them, laughing at inside jokes, throwing water balloons or playing with squirt guns, and traveling through the city has me yearning to do it all over again with everyone. From going to the ice cream parlor with Riley and Auggie to sprinting for home when playing flag football with the group, aside from Farkle and Smackle. I wanted to do that again. I don't want that taken away from me or I'll never be the same again.

"I don't wanna miss anymore," I mumbled but loud enough for Tracy to hear me. "I missed so much...I don't wanna miss anymore just because I can't walk."

"And you will," Tracy said. "But you need to do it at a certain pace without straining yourself. This is just the first session. I give it three more, four tops, and you will be yourself in no time. With the way you are - I have no doubt. You have great belief in you."

My thoughts went back to the main reason as to why I was filled with so much faith and courage to begin with; Riley. She consumed my thoughts with the many times I had chosen to give into the pressure of society or to the impossible and how she pulled me back out into her perspective mind of endless optimism and constantly persistence. If it hadn't been for her then I wouldn't have gotten better in art, I wouldn't have found my potential in choir club, and I wouldn't have discovered my unknown passion in the drama department. So many things that have been threaten to be snatched away, I fought for it because I learned from her to better myself for myself.

"I wanna go again," I said after a moment.

"Maya, you need to take it e-"

"I wanna go again," I repeated strongly, staring at her keenly. "I _need_ to go again. I can't just sit here and act pathetic. I gotta do this."

"Maya -"

I ignored her and started to push myself back on my feet then used any wall nearby to support me as I began my way back to the rails. Tracy was quick to join me by my side to lead me back but I slipped my arm out of her grasp and gave her a scowl.

"Look, you're a physical therapist, right? So it's your job to help your patients get better again," I noted. "I'm a patient - I _want_ to get better. But I need _you_ to help _me_ get better so don't try to sit me down because I'll just get back up again. If you're not going to do what the doctor called you for then you can sit there and watch - I'm going to try again."

I was going to turn away except Tracy's ominous smile baffled me to stay glued on the spot.

"Alright," she said. "If that's what you want…"

Then she turned away from me and walked across the room until she was leaning against the far wall ahead of me, crossing her arms, leg propped up, and she was staring at me in silence. I looked back at her, bewildered.

"Remember it's just walking," she continued. "Think of a memory - the best day of your life. Think of it and stay on that feeling of bliss - hold onto that feeling. Don't think about anything else."

"Okay…" I said quietly, mostly to myself.

With the beat of my heart and a sudden, newfound adrenaline rush swarming through me, I was compelled to push myself off the wall. I stumbled forward but, to my relief, I did not collapse. I looked down with wide eyes to find that my once jello-like legs were not standing tall like two great pillars holding my unstable structure. I looked up at Tracy, who has an expression of amazement like me, but then I noticed how far the distance between us truly is - she was not a foot or two away like I thought she was at first - and my knees were buckling away their strength as my confidence started to falter.

"Hey, hey, concentrate!" Tracy clapped loudly to gain my attention. "No freaking out on me, Hunter! Look at yourself - you're standing! That's a great improvement from your fall earlier!"

 _She's right_ , I thought. _If I can stand like this, then…_

Nodding, I balled my clammy hands into fists and lifted my left leg to take the first step.

 _I have to do this…If I wanna...If I wanna go home then...I gotta..._

I shakily brought the leg in front of me.

 _Riley...she's been waiting for me to come home...twelve years...it's been too long for her…_

I pushed all my strength into that one leg as I began to lift my right leg. It shook a little to involuntarily bend but I snapped it into a firm press. A painful grunt left me while I managed to bring my other leg down in front of the other.

 _Auggie...Cory...Topanga...they did everything to...to give me a home and...take care of me...no doubt they're waiting for me to come back too…_

"C'mon, Maya, you're doing it!" exclaimed Tracy. "You're walking! Now try walking to me!"

I looked at her with wavering eyes, hesitation slowly taking over me. _I'm too tired...it hurts...but...but...Farkle!...He's like a little bird in a nest...he needs to be protected!_

My right leg picked itself up and it landed with grace in front of me, shaking only a little bit.

 _Smackle...she needs to be reminded that it's okay to not understand feelings...she needs someone there to make her feel better when she feels like an outcast…_

To my amazement, my left leg reacted much more quicker than my right as it flew to the front.

 _Zay...our inside jokes...he needs someone there to laugh at them so he won't feel so lonely...and his son, Jeremiah...I gotta meet him…_

I licked my upper lip, wiping away the sweat that collected there, and grinding my teeth as more beads drip down on my face.

 _And Lucas...Ranger Rick...Sundance...Huckleberry...Hop-a-long...he needs someone to take him down from his high horse when he gets a big head...someone needs to find him...I need to know where he is…_

I almost stumbled over my next step and my body nearly staggered forward, causing Tracy to let out a wild gasp, but I assured her as I kept my balance firmly upright.

 _And Josh…_

Suddenly, I don't know where the strength came from, but it felt like a jolt of electricity just shot through my legs. I took what felt like several, rapid strides towards my physical therapist, eyes wide in perplexity and once I was aware that my legs were functioning properly, they wobbled and sent me hurdling downwards. I quickly, out of instinct, reached out to grab onto the first thing I felt and I was found clutching onto collar of her top while she brought her arms around me, bending slightly.

"S-sorry!" I choked out through my dry throat as she gingerly maneuvered me to lean against the wall and slowly lowered me to the ground, which I did not like because I could now feel the throbbing sensation in my limp legs.

"Maya," Tracy beamed. "Do you realize what you just did?"

"Risk cracking my skull open?" I said sarcastically and released my grip on her top before leaning against the wall. "I swear I thought I saw my life - or last of it - flash before my very eyes. I don't think I can handle getting another smack on the head or I'll -"

"Maya, no," Tracy sniggered. "You just...ran."

I blinked. "I...I did?"

Tracy grinned broadly and nodded. "And it was a pretty decent run too. I think it's safe to say you skipped two sessions. Next time I see you, we could test on the strength of your legs and your stamina."

"And maybe a respiratory exam too. I feel like I'm about to pass out," I wheezed out, feeling all of my muscles slag under my weight as I slumped against the wall and let the small sweat beads slide down on my face. "I think I might be having an asthma attack."

"She said the same thing too when she didn't get to eat a chimichanga one day."

Those next words did not come from me nor Tracy as we both looked at each other in confusion before we turned simultaneously at the doorway and an instant smile broke out as a cheerful laugh escaped from within me.

There he was, standing there at the entrance of the room, dressed in a black polka-dotted shirt under a black vest and wearing that famous lopsided grin of his that would make another smile. His hair - which I remembered to have been long and slightly bushy - was cut down into a buzz cut with a unique design on the side of his head. It seemed like a Chinese word or perhaps it was Japanese - I could never tell the difference between them. He also seem to have grown taller over the years, maybe a foot or two over my head, and the outlines of his arms were visible enough for me to see the muscles have developed very well. I could also see some tattoo designs on the exposed skin of his left arm.

But this wasn't why I couldn't look away; I was more enthralled in the smaller version of him standing next to him, clutching on his pants leg and shyly peeking through his lashes. His eyes were wide and shapely lovable - no doubt those are Vanessa's eyes - his nose small and petite, his cheekbones defined, and his lips were full.

Even though he was trying to seem calm, leaning against the doorframe by his shoulder, and his hands stuffed in his pockets, I could see his eyes start to water.

"She wasn't kidding," he said. "You're awake."

The grin on my face couldn't possibly stop from growing as I watched him slowly walk up to me, his son following along without release his hold on his father's pants and plucked a thumb in his mouth. As he got closer, I could see his face even better; his jaw was sculptured and his eyes were worn out. He looked older than Riley but he still held that vibe of a laid back person with a mind beyond this universe.

"I tried to get here as soon as I got the text from Riley," he said. "I had to get everything prepped for the show and by the time I was done it was too late to visit you. But you…" He took in a deep, shaky breath. "You have no idea how much we all missed you."

"Zay…" I managed to speak out. To feel his name roll off the tip of my tongue for the first time in a decade, I felt a shiver climb up my spine, an epinephrine pulsating through my veins, and my breathing sputtered out in garbled words as I pushed myself off the wall to fall into his unexpected arms, nearly falling if it hadn't been for him.

Zay held me tight, almost like he was afraid I was some sort of mirage to him and if he were to look at me again then I'd disappear in front of his eyes. I was scared too. I latch onto his shoulders while he clasped on my middle torso, gently rocking us to the sides as we desperately breathed in our presences like addicts.

"I don't even know what to say," he whispered softly into my hair, rubbing his hand over my back. "I thought...I thought, you...were never going to wake up again. You don't know how hard it's been for...everyone."

"I'm just glad to be back," I whispered, trying to not let the waver of my voice be known.

"Daddy...who's that?"

Zay and I peeled away from each other, his arms still around me to keep me still. I glanced down at the small child, who is glancing between us with curiosity shining off his eyes, his hand still clutching on his pants and his thumb still in his mouth, nibbling the tip with his teeth. When he saw my eyes settled on him, he let out a small squeak and buried his face in the fabric of Zay's pants, making him chuckle in amusement while I looked at him in bewilderment.

"He's sort of a shy one," Zay told me, patting his son on the top of his head. "Maya, this is -"

"Jeremiah," I said. "Riley told me about him."

"I sort of figured," he snorted. He turned to his half. "Son, this is your Aunt Maya."

A flutter went off in my chest at that. _Aunt Maya._ The sound of that was perfect. It was official. It held a sense of a homey feel to it, like I was meant to have that title. Being an only child, I was never expected to have nieces or nephews and I accepted to have to watch Riley being smothered with kisses, hugs, and squeals of excitement when seen, but to hear Zay call me that to his first born, I felt grateful and delighted to have the honor.

"Aunth Maawa?" asked Jeremiah, mostly to me, his words mumbled by his thumb.

I carefully slid down to my knees, with much success due to Zay hold my arms as I did, and I smiled fondly at the little kid. He looked like he wanted to scurry away from me but it seemed his curiosity overtook his fear as he slowly let go of Zay's pants and fidget with the zipper of his jacket, the other still stuck in his mouth.

"Yeah," I said. "I'm your Aunt Maya. It's nice to finally meet you, Jeremiah."

"Where chu bween?"

I pursed my lips. "Away. Just doing a couple of things. But I'm here now."

His eyes smiled at me. "Niceth to mweet chu."

"It's nice to meet you too, J. Can your Auntie have a hug?"

He silently nodded before he popped his thumb out of his mouth and stepped forward to sling his small arms around my shoulders, my own immediately engulfing him in an embrace where I poured in all the warmth and tenderness I've grown for him ever since the moment I learned about him. I didn't know I could have such emotion for a little kid I never knew was created but from the very second Riley told me about him, I wanted nothing more than to see him, be part of his life, spoil him rotten, and care for him like he was my half.

I thought it was odd but being here, in this room, with my old high school friend and physical therapist, and this bundle of a miracle holding me like he's known me since his birth proved me otherwise.

This boy, Jeremiah, is part of my life now. He always has been even in my coma. He was meant to be in my life. He is the one who is suppose to blow my ears out with his constant yells, make me want to rip my hair off by his constant cries, make me laugh from his childish antics, and leave me in love with the position of an aunt at the end of the day by knowing he is happy to have met me throughout everything.

"I'm not going anywhere, J," I whispered gently. "I promise."

And I will do all of my power to carry that promise to my grave.

* * *

 **A/N:**

I know some of you may ask me this if you're curious but yes I did base off Josh's love interest with Uriah's real-life girlfriend. I figured since they brought people from the other actor's lives why not bring in another, right?

Also if any of you have any questions or comments about the story, you can ask me or tell me here: /RestoPrgurl16

I will answer as many questions and read as many opinions as I can.

Other than this, I hope you're enjoying the story so far!

 **Please Review!**


	6. Chapter Five: Similarity

**A/N:** I do not own Girl Meets World, the characters, the locations, the songs, or quotes mentioned in it. But I do own the plot.

* * *

 _What day is it_

 _And in what month?_

 _This clock never seemed so alive_

 _I can't keep up, and I can't back down_

 _I've been losing so much time_

\- You and Me; Lifehouse

* * *

 _"The universe may have a purpose, but nothing we know suggests that, if so, this purpose has any similarity to ours."_

\- Bertrand Russell

* * *

 **Chapter Five: Similarity**

" _That's mine, miss."_

I didn't want to worry Zay because I knew he'd immediately tell Riley if he found out but I've been hearing these odd voices of someone I don't remember. It wasn't like that dream I had a week ago. This one was really the most painful to think about because whenever I try to dig deeper in my mind, a hammering sensation would start and I'd have to take a couple of Tylenol to soothe it away.

" _Oh! Sorry about that...Where's your mom?"_

" _In California."_

" _Whoa. You're traveling alone?"_

I ran my hands from my face to my head, flipping back my bangs.

" _Yup. Big kids do that. Are you flying alone?"_

" _Yes, I am. I'm going to California, too."_

" _Can I sit with you?"_

I took in a huge breath of air, grabbing on the edges of the sink to keep myself from falling. My pupils were constricted, my heart was pounding wildly. I held my aching head, screwing my eyes shut tightly as another burning round of pain went through me yet again.

" _Uh...sure, I guess. Just don't talk too -"_

" _Yay! I made a new friend!"_

Changing the clothes that Riley brought me, I took another look at myself in the full-length mirror on the door. A David Bowie shirt, my trademark leather jacket from senior year, a pair of ripped jeans, and some combat boots. I looked like the way I used to only more different. And then there is my ring; my friendship ring that Riley got for me on my fourteenth birthday. It still held the same feeling to it, as though it was part of my own skin, instead of a piece of accessory. It amazes me that it still fit snugly on my finger like it never left and it also gives me pure relief that it does too.

Despite all of this, I still held the image of the rebellious girl with a mischief mind.

Opening the door, I met the sight of Zay playing with his son on my bed. He was lying on the mattress while lifting his son in the air by holding his small hands in his and keeping him balanced on his legs. Jeremiah was cackling happily, the wide smile on his face a bright light in this dull room and the constant depressing beeps of the machines. It was a bit bizarre for me to see a smaller replica of Zay being held in Zay's arms, especially when I still remember him as the guy who is flirtatious to the first cheerleader he spots and is constantly making comical comments about any situation. He was like the Chandler from FRIENDS in our group; no commitment, no desire for family. So to see him with a child is mind-boggling.

Upon my arrival, Zay lowered his son on the bed and met my gaze steadily, making me wonder what is going through his head. The slight dilation and the audible gasp from him was more than enough to show his appreciation of me.

"So how do I look?" I asked with a grin.

Zay smiled. "Like you used to."

"Is that a good or bad thing?"

"How is that a bad thing?"

"Should a thirty-one year old look like a nineteen year old girl? A bit creepy if you ask me."

"Hmm, I see your point. Maybe we should get you shopping."

"Shopping? You?"

Zay grinned proudly. "Being a dad has its perks. I had to do most of the shopping for this little one." He patted his hand on top of Jeremiah's head. "My taste in fashion got better over time. You could ask Riley and Smackle - they forced me to."

I snorted. "I'll keep that in mind."

Zay got up from the bed and pushed the wheelchair closer to me before he helped me into it by the hand. My physical therapist told me to not exert myself despite my great results in our session and to only use my legs at a minimum - only going to the bathroom or showering or changing my clothes.

"Why do you need that?" asked Jeremiah, kicking his feet over the edge of the bed, his dark eyes innocently watching me as Zay wheeled me over to him. I opened my arms out for him to hop into and held him tightly to me as Zay started to move us out of the room.

"Because I need to rest my legs," I answered kindly.

"But you can walk. Don't you like to walk?"

"I do. I miss walking very much."

"Why don't you?"

"My legs don't work so much."

"Are they broken? They don't seem broken. You were walking earlier."

"They're not broken. They're…" I paused momentarily. "Asleep. I think that's a good way to put it."

Jeremiah moved his legs apart and started poking me in the thighs. "Why won't they wake up?"

"Because it's a long process to do that," I sighed deeply, jumping slightly as he continued to pressed his fingers deeper into my thigh, making me wince slightly.

"Why?"

I rolled my eyes. "I don't know. Because it is."

"Why does it take so long?"

"So I won't mess up my legs."

"How do you mess up your legs?"

"You ask a lot of questions, do you know that?"

Jeremiah smiled sheepishly over his shoulder. "That's what dad always says. He says I get it from mom."

"Really?" I glanced slyly at Zay, who was letting out a meek chuckle and scratched his head. "Last time I check, it was your father who loved to run his mouth all day long. You know lying is a terrible example to set on your son, daddy."

Zay raised an amused brow. "Daddy? I like the sound of that."

I winked at him. "I know you do."

"You never changed, Maya," Zay snickered. "Always teasing a man and leaving him hanging. You're a terrible woman."

"You should know better than anyone, Mr. Babineaux, that if I wasn't the terrible woman I am then I would be known as the girl that everyone has had. I've like to leave them curious to the mind."

Zay laughed. "I take it back. You're not terrible - you're just straight up evil."

"Why thank you, good man."

Jeremiah looked confused of our exchange. I playfully ruffled with his hair, making him squeal out a small giggle as he tried to push my hands away and escape from my grasp but I kept on because he look positively adorable with that thousand-watt smile, free of all wrongs, and it was a great distraction to keep him from asking anymore trivial questions.

"Are any of you guys hungry?" asked Zay. "What about you, Jer? You haven't eaten anything since this morning and you barely touched your eggs too."

"I'm not hungry," answered Jeremiah stubbornly, making Zay sigh softly.

I pursed my lips. "Well, I for one am very hungry. They don't give any good food to patients here. Just oatmeal and tomato soup. Riley and mom used to sneak in some food from Paco's Tacos but they got caught and have to give a mandatory bag search whenever they visit. A little bit strict if you ask me."

"I hate soup," Jeremiah stated. "Soup is gross."

"Soup _is_ gross," I giggled.

"Hey, hey, don't encourage him," Zay said. "Next time he gets sick, I won't be able to feed him any of my grandma's creamed-corn and chicken soup to get better."

I made a disgusted sound. "Creamed-corn? You can't blame me for him hating soup. You put yourself on the spot on that one."

"Sure it is."

Zay maneuvered us into a small room down the hall, the one where patients can lodge around to watch the television with neighbors or friendly visitors, and where a small snack bar is found with meal appropriate for our ill conditions. It was somewhat empty today; only Mr. Toffer, a patient with bronchitis, is seen tinkering with the cable of the television to make the news channel clearer and Mandy, a kid patient who recently got out of a surgery to take out her tonsils. She would come by my room from time to time to share her coloring book with me and play a few board games her parents would bring to make friends with.

When she heard us come in, she immediately hopped up from her chair at the coloring station and ran up to us.

"Hiya, Maya!" she greeted as she wrapped her arms around me, not caring that she is practically leaning over Jeremiah or adding more pressure to my lap. "I was hoping to see you today!"

"Hey, kid," I smiled.

"Who are these people?" she asked while releasing me and glancing between the two important men of my life. She held her hand out to Zay. "Hi! I'm Mandy!" she added politely, a trait about her that made me find her tolerable enough to let her intrude my room when she felt like it. She reminded me of a fetus Riley - if it weren't for that, I'd probably ignore her like a plague.

"Nice to meet you, sugar," Zay said, burying her tiny hands in his large, dark ones as they shook. "My name is Zay and this is my son, Jeremiah. Are your parents around?"

"Mommy and daddy are working," she answered. "They won't be here today."

My eyebrows furrowed. "They didn't come the day before that either. Were they that busy?"

The little green eyed girl shrugged. "My daddy was suppose to come but he never did. I guess he forgot. And my mommy is going on trip to Staten Island and I don't know when she's coming back."

I frowned. It is bizarre to hear the waver in her voice. Mandy is a quite loud person whenever she talks to one of us and she held a chipper attitude that would bring up a little light in someone's day, including mine mostly. So to see her being so collected about her parents was unusual.

"Has this been happening a lot? Do your parents usually come when they say they would?" I asked. I don't know how long she has been stranded in the hospital - I've only been awake for a week and she was already here by then. The only days she came were on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday so I instantly assumed that her parents do come occasionally but after hearing this, I wasn't so sure.

Mandy nodded. "They work a lot. They come when they can. I'll be leaving the hospital soon anyway, though, I think my grandpa is gonna be picking me up."

"Oh," I bit my lip. "Well, if you want, next time your parents don't come around to visit, you can swing by my room and we can play another round of Monopoly. How's that sound for you?"

Mandy grinned. "Thanks, Maya!" Then she turned to Jeremiah, who still hasn't removed himself from my lap. "Hey, you wanna play?"

Jeremiah glanced at Zay over my head, his eyes shining innocence and questions, and I guess he gave him permission to join Mandy because Jeremiah let out a cheerful yelp before he hopped off my lap to run with Mandy back to the kid's section of the lounge, where I can see how all kinds of toys scattered around.

"She seems like a nice girl," Zay said as he wheeled me over to the snack bar and moved around me to get a plate fixed.

"She's alright. She likes to come by my room and bother me to death," I said. "Don't know how long she's been here - she was already here when I woke up. Supposedly she got her tonsils out but I don't remember Riley staying in the hospital so long when she got hers taken out."

"Maybe it's a lot more than getting her tonsils out?" Zay inquired.

"Maybe. I don't know." I glanced back at the kids, watching them act out with the small action figures and race cars as they spoke in alternate voices and laughed giddily at each other. "Jeremiah is a good kid."

"He is," Zay said. "He can be stubborn about some things like his mother but he does them in the end."

"What grade is he in?"

"Second grade. I think he's going to be interested in architecture like my grandma. The teacher tells me he's always doing these great little buildings during arts and crafts. Last week he did a neat little mansion out of popsicle sticks."

"How long has it been since school started for him?"

"A month and a half, I think. It's only mid-October right now. I don't know if Riley told you yet."

"She has," I said. "Does Jeremiah have any friends?"

"Ah, not really," Zay grimaced. "The kids at his school don't really go to him just for him, if that makes any sense. They mostly go for me." He reached in a bowl of fruit and takes out a pair of peaches. "You see, the school he's in is a prestigious school - the Dalton School - and it seems theater is a big thing for the kids and their parents so when they heard that some big shot broadway director's child is going to be attending there, they were all excited to get a chance to meet me. So Jeremiah doesn't really get enough attention to make any real friends because of me."

"Why don't you just transfer him to a different school where nobody knows you?" I insisted.

"That's one of the best schools I could find in New York," Zay said. "I want him to have a good education and be somewhere safe."

"But is a good education worth having your kid live like a social outcast?" I challenged. "You used to be like that and it would have been worse if you weren't in the same school as Lucas or otherwise you wouldn't have known anybody."

Zay lets out a deep breath as he sets the plate on my lap and went behind me to move us towards one of the vacant tables nearby. I placed the plate on the table before I maneuvered myself onto the chair in front of me, with a bit of assistance from Zay, and made myself comfortable in the small cushion as Zay sat on the chair across from me. From the farther distance of the spot, I could see Mr. Toffer swing his arms over his head in happiness as he finally got the television fixed and was slightly praising himself for his handywork. Zay seemed oblivious of the whole thing.

"I get what you mean by that, Maya, I really do but I just want my son to do good," Zay said. "He's still hasn't gotten over the whole split between me and his mother so I don't want to overwhelm him. He's only seven, after all."

"Alright, explain to me this; how'd you and Vanessa happen and why did it end?" I pluck an apple from the plate, turning it around in my hand. "Last time, I remember, you two weren't so hot and heavy since that Texas trip. But Riley says you two tried to have a relationship in college."

"We never really managed to," Zay frowned. "I think it's pretty obvious that I never really got over my infatuation on Vanessa and she was the big reason why I chose to college in Texas."

"I thought it was because you didn't want to be separated from your best friend again," I added.

"Okay, she was _one_ of the big reasons why I chose to college in Texas," Zay continued. "I was in love with her. Very much. I'd do anything to make her happy - buy her a car, a house, all the makeup brands there is, anything. Except she never wanted a serious relationship - she wasn't looking to get settled down so soon, saying she is still young and is only starting life by going to college. But she admitted that she didn't really want to lose a good guy like me to another girl and wanted to keep me to herself."

"That's a little selfish," I snorted. "Sounds like she treated you as her personal toy."

"I didn't care at the time," Zay said. "I just wanted to be with her someone so that if she ever changes her mind about me, I'd be right there. All I thought about was that she wanted me in some way rather than seeing me as some good friend she used to go to school with and clown around a lot in class. I got her and I was willing to go with whatever way she wanted me as. And it seems that the only way she wanted me was as friends with benefits. So I took the offer, thinking if I could have her at all times she wants it then maybe I could possibly change her mind in the process."

"No way," I gasped out.

I only met Vanessa once and on the trip to Texas in middle school and even then I never really got to personally meet her. She appeared to be as a stereotypical flower child from the stories I've heard of her through Zay and from her first impression so to hear Zay she pursued a physical relationship with him instead left me flabbergasted. I couldn't picture Vanessa as that kind of free girl looking for opportunities to feel her needs - I couldn't even picture Zay as the kind of guy to be okay with such a relationship.

"Yeah," Zay chuckles meekly. "That turned out to be a mistake after five years in."

"I figured as much."

"Yeah. You know what they say about college parties; be careful how you party at them. I was being careful with my drinks and stuff but Vanessa...she was a whole different story." Zay poked on a cheese pizza piece, distracted. "I don't know how you college kids party over here in New York but I can guarantee you that if you ever went to a party in the colleges at Texas, you won't remember anything. From who you made out with to what you played beer bong with. And it's not even at the campus - we'd go to a secluded area somewhere far from it. And Vanessa was very into the scene. I'm talking 'having your top off, hanging from a guy's shoulders, and drinking cheap beer upside down' into it. She looked nothing like the girl I thought she was and definitely didn't act like it."

I nodded, silently urging him to continue, as I chomped off a piece of the apple I had twirling in my hand and chewed.

"Maya," Zay murmured. "If I tell you a secret, will you promise not to tell anybody, not even Riley? And won't look at me differently?"

I swallowed my apple piece while I reach my hand across the table and gently placed it on top of his. "Zay, I doubt there's anything that you could tell me that would make me see you differently. I still can't see you any different from high school and you're a broadway director with a kid."

Zay smiled softly. He flipped his hand to wrap his fingers around mine, softly caressing my fingers with his thumb. I could feel his skin trembling, making me ponder what could be going through his mind at this moment. Taking a closer look at his face, I could see the smile did not seem so genuine, rather forced out of nervousness, and his eyes also looked to have dimmed down from his natural spirit. He was really scared of me seeing a change in him. He didn't have to be but he was.

"Zay, what's wrong?" I asked.

He bit his lip whilst he glanced down at our entwined hands, the sight seem to relax him for a while, before he looked back up at me as he tightened his hold on my hand and leaned forward closer to me.

"Maya...about Jeremiah, he…" he paused for a moment to take a deep breath. "He isn't my biological son."

I would have choked on my apple if I had taken another bite but I was close to it with my own saliva and I needed to take four large gulps of the soda bottles Zay had picked out for us (unfortunately mine was diet) then I looked at him bewildered as he nervously fidgeted with my fingers, his teeth gnawing on his bottom lip. He held dishonorable expression, almost like he was afraid I was going to stand tall and lash out at him for his secret as if I were his mother. I think I would have if my legs weren't so burdensome or else his pride would have dwindled even more.

"Wh...what?" I managed to blurt out.

"Jeremiah isn't really my son," he repeated.

"Oh, okay," I said calmly. "For a second, I thought I heard you wrong."

"No. You heard me." He shifted in his chair and captured my hand in both of his, gripping tightly as if he was scared that I would flee from him like he was the most repulsive being ever made. "Look, before you judge me, I have pretty good reason why I'm doing what I do. I know it seems ridiculous but if you hear me out, you might have a change of perspective of it all."

"I can think of a few things why."

I glanced over at the kid's section to see Jeremiah performing some impressive tricks with a toy lightsaber and speaking in a deep, commanding voice as he and Mandy battled like they were real Jedis. I observed him closely; at first glance, I can easily spot Vanessa's features on his face from a mile away but to find the Zay in him, I'd have to focus intently until I could see the resemblance within the young boy's eyes. It seems like the only thing that linked him to Zay. And then there is the way he behaves; mirthful, friendly, and curious. Everything I remember Zay to be and probably later in life, Jeremiah will be confident in his flirtatious skills whenever he sees an attractive cheerleader.

I honestly believe he is Zay's son. He has everything of the man in front of me in him. He is all the things I pictured Zay to be a toddler and I am certain later on he will be another one of him. I don't see the possibilities of him being the half of a stranger being certain.

At least, I didn't until I saw Jeremiah's smile.

I remember back in sophomore year, when one of my teachers, Ms. Wales, had given me an assignment to do a family tree and I had based it on Shawn's side, she had told me to redo it on my mother instead because she knew Shawn was not my biological father and the point of the project is to learn more about myself from my past times. I never told her about my history and it was only the second week since the new school year began so it confused me as to how she knew about Shawn being my step-father.

She had explained to me that one could tell who's related by their smile. More specifically what lies beneath them. The same chastity and vivacity of a parent's youth hidden from many years of poise and sophistication can be seen in their child. And I do not have Shawn's. Unfortunately, I am reminded that, although I lived a life calling Shawn as my father and I moved on being called Maya Hunter after my adoption, I am really the daughter of Kermit Hart. My blood is his no matter what I do and I'd have to live with it.

And that is how I am able to see that Zay is telling the truth; Jeremiah isn't his son. He doesn't share his smile. Yet he does bear Zay's eyes.

"Who's the father?" I asked.

"My cousin," Zay sighed shamefully. I turned back to him, shocked. "He is five years older than me and he was going on his last year of his studies when he met Vanessa. I sort of knew there was this sexual tension between the two when they first met during study hall. The party we went to was thrown by him and his frat buddies. He has been stealing Vanessa all night, dancing with her, bringing her drinks, smoking weed with her in his truck - the whole stereotypical stuff you usually see on TV."

"How could your cousin do that to you?" I was appalled. "Didn't he know that you've been in love with Vanessa for a long time? You weren't discreet about it. Lucas even told us that nearly half the town knew about your obsession of her."

"He knew what I felt for her," Zay said. "But he didn't know of the thing we had going on."

"That doesn't matter," I retorted. "You don't go after someone's girl if you know someone you care about has feelings for them."

Zay raised an amused brow and gave me a knowing smirk. I rolled my eyes with a groan.

"Let it go," I demanded. "For the record, I was a kid - scratch that, _we_ were kids and we didn't know what we were doing. Everything was confusing. The triangle has been over for years now. Build a bridge and get over it."

"Fine, fine," Zay laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. He then lifted a handful of french fries off the tray, and deliberately shoved the entire thing in his mouth, chewed quickly, then swallowed.

"But, all joking aside," I continued, "if your cousin knew then he shouldn't have tried to hook up with Vanessa and if Jeremiah is his son then he should take responsibility of him. Does he even know Jeremiah is his?"

"He doesn't know," Zay confirmed with a slight grimace. "Vanessa came to me as soon as she learned that she was pregnant. She didn't want anyone else to know she was pregnant with my cousin's baby, especially when it's known around campus that he's been on-and-off with this one girl for almost three years. If word got out that she was pregnant with his baby then she'll be shunned for life."

"Well, that's her fault to begin with," I snorted. "She wanted to party like a wild girl, she had to suffer the consequences."

"I know she should have and I should have let her go through it. She broke our pact to be intimate with only each other and went behind my back with someone from my family," Zay murmured. "But I couldn't turn my back on her, Maya. I just couldn't."

"Zay, she hooked up with your cousin!"

"I know that!"

"So why do you keep trying?"

"Because I loved her! I was very in love with her!"

"But Jeremiah isn't your son!"

"And what does that make you to Shawn then?"

I held back the astonished gasp that was threatening to break out of me at Zay's comment, shocked to hear such words come out of him, and he seems to be in the same boat as me as he stared at me with stunned eyes. His mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water, like he wasn't sure what he could say now. He slowly pulled his hand back from mine and hid them under the table while he licked his lips nervously.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "That sort of slipped out."

I nodded silently as I folded my hands on my lap and glanced around the room that isn't him.

"Maya," Zay began softly. "I know what you're trying to say and you're right about that. Vanessa doesn't deserve me and should have gone through the consequences of her actions and I shouldn't have been foolish enough to take in my cousin's place when she learned she was pregnant with his baby. I understand what you mean but please look at it in my perspective too."

I sighed. He was doing it again. The little trick he usually does with his eyes. They would be big and lovable as they pierce into mine. He normally uses it on me whenever he wants a favor out of me or if he is trying to divert my attention away from a crisis he had been caught in. But right now he is using it to convince me to listen to his reasons.

"Tell me then," I finally said.

Zay smiled a small, relieved smile. "Thanks." He lifted his hands on the table and tangled his fingers together. "Tell me this; who does Jeremiah remind you of in this whole situation?"

I stayed quiet for a minute. I analyzed the whole situation by what I've learned. Zay and Vanessa held an intimate relationship for nearly five years - Vanessa and his cousin met sometime during those years - Vanessa and his cousin hooked up during a frat party - Vanessa got pregnant, never told the real father about the baby, and confessed to Zay - and Zay took in the role of being Jeremiah's father even though he isn't biologically his - I let out a shocked gasp as I finally realized what Zay has been trying to tell me.

"Me," I breathed out. "He is like me."

Zay nodded. "Yeah. I instantly thought of you and what you would do if you were here when it happened. I knew my cousin wouldn't want anything to do with the baby or Vanessa - she was just a fling to him to distract himself from his girlfriend. And I didn't want Vanessa to go through it all alone so I put my name on Jeremiah's birth certificate and helped her through it. Eventually, me doing that, we started our own relationship and we started to live like a little family."

"You made sure he wasn't fatherless," I added.

"Yeah," Zay said. "Nobody else knows or, at least I think they don't, that he isn't really my son because I don't know how they'd react to it. But you, I kind of hoped that you'd understand. The thought of Vanessa going through it alone made me think of your mother and then made me think of you. I was kind of hoping you'd understand that."

I leaned back against my chair and tapped my nails against the table as I contemplated. After hearing Zay's purposes, I felt like a hypocrite. He was doing something generous and thoughtful for a child who isn't even his own, someone who's real father did not want to acknowledge his existence - he was doing something I wish had happened to me sooner. And I am here criticizing him for being involved in something that he never created when I have Shawn who did the same thing when he married my mother and adopted me in freshmen year.

Zay's cousin was everything my father is and had taken away my youth by walking away from, not just me, but my mother. Shawn was everything my father is not and made up all those years I spent in anger and wallowing away in self-pity. He was all I needed. Zay is anything Jeremiah needed from his real father, maybe even better, and he is getting all that he desired from him because Zay truly loves him like a father should. He is all Jeremiah needs.

But the only difference is that Vanessa did not deserve Zay. Not after all the emotional trauma he went through to live for a short relationship with her. My mother, however, does deserve Shawn for all that she went through and all that he had to suffer by from his childhood. They deserve the content they give each other. Vanessa shouldn't get a brief moment of it from Zay.

"I get your point," I said. "But there's a difference between my mother and Vanessa."

Zay did not speak. His eyes urged me to continue.

"My mom didn't get pregnant off of my father's cousin from some dumb college party," I retorted. "And at least my own gutless father had the decency to meet me and let me let go of all the anger I held for myself. So I can't feel completely sorry for Vanessa and her actions."

"I know," mumbled Zay.

"But I'll admit it's very admirable of you to do this, Zay," I smiled. "You're an idiot for doing it for a woman who doesn't deserve you but you're sweet for not leaving the kid in the end. Thank you."

"To be honest, Maya, I missed you," Zay admitted as he reached across the table to take my hand again, rubbing my knuckles with his thumb. "Things weren't so easy ever since the attack."

I nodded. "Riley gave me a brief explanation on everybody in their lives. That's how I know you made broadway director and...other things. Like Lucas is missing."

I regretted saying those words as soon as I heard them because I could see the light in Zay's eyes dim down and his grip on my hand loosen up a little. I could see the news about his best friend gone has taken a toll on him harder than he has been letting people know.

"He's not missing. He's just...not around anymore. He hasn't been himself since he got back from the war against ISIS and he took time to himself to get better with small vacations in other countries. Then he just...we just stopped hearing from him altogether. Haven't heard from him since." He sniffled a little. "It kind of sucks too, in a way. I chose him to be Jeremiah's godfather in case Vanessa or I weren't suitable enough to be his parents."

I looked down at our hands. "Hearing that Ranger Rick doesn't keep in contact with his own godson is unbelievable. I wasn't expecting for this to happen...not by him. Or any of us."

"Well, he didn't exactly do okay after the war," Zay said. "He's been acting weird since he retired and when he started to do small vacations, he got a little better but he had a small relapse. One day, I went to his apartment to see if he wanted to hang out with me and Billy and he wasn't found anywhere. There was just a note saying 'I'm sorry' and that's it."

"What does he have to be sorry for?" I asked.

"Nobody knows," Zay shook his head. "We called almost everybody in the law to find him. From NYPD to FBI until eventually we called his captain and he got the NCIS involved in looking for him. Apparently, Lucas hid his tracks really good. He learned a couple of good tricks in his days."

"I'm sure they'll find him soon," I said. I was not sure if I was trying to reassure him and give him the comfort he needs or if I was trying to do it for me. "People who go missing usually end up being found."

"Lucas isn't missing," Zay said firmly. "He just doesn't want to be found."

"Okay."

I didn't say anything further on, hoping that my silence would not upset him any more. I could see the turn of the conversation was distressing him and the thought of his best friend ensuring that any contact from him was never found is depressing. I can only imagine. I've known Lucas since I was thirteen but Zay has known him for a lifetime. The hurt I feel must be nothing compared to the one Zay is feeling.

The other person who could understand Zay with all of this is Riley. I was not lost but I was not here for twelve years. She would see me on that hospital bed, motionless like a statue, but I was merely a shell of her real best friend and she would come to visit me to see if she'd find me like the way she did a week ago only to be disappointed. It must have been the worse thing to happen to her or Zay; to learn that someone they grew up with their whole life is suddenly wiped out from the face of the earth.

"Let's change the topic then. The air is too heavy." I ran a hand through my hair, trying to ignore the shaking of my fingers. "So what made you want to be a broadway director?"

Zay somewhat smiled. "Remember back in high school when we did that play on RENT?"

"Yeah."

"When Mr. Jones got the heavy flu and gave me the responsibility to direct the play because he couldn't find a replacement at the last minute, he was impress at the good reviews the play got from the school newspaper and from some critics who were there. He thought I had potential and took me under his wing for the rest of the year. Eventually, when college applications and stuff started to come in, he recommended me to his old headmaster at the college I went to in Texas, even gave me a free tour of the place."

"That's great to hear, Zay. You were really great with all the plays and the way you handled them. We'd get some good views and such on the critics but they were over the roof ever since Mr. Jones made you his little protege. I'm glad to hear you found something you really like and made a living out of it."

"Thanks, Maya. That means a lot."

"Riley told me you have a new play out. _Eleanor in Economy_ , right?"

"Yup. The next show is on next Friday. Would you like to come?"

"Sure! I've heard good things about your play, Isiah."

Zay grinned merrily. Then, the rapid pitter-pattering of small feet is heard coming from Jeremiah as he ran up to us with Mandy, the both of them giggling cheerfully while they held onto their toy lightsabers and blasters.

"Hey, dad, wanna play?" he asked, holding up his toys. "How about you, Aunt Maya?"

"Only if you eat," Zay said. "You haven't eaten anything since this morning."

Jeremiah pouted. "But I'm not hungry."

"J…" Zay said warningly.

I lightly patted his head. "Hey, bud, how about we make a deal? You eat a little something from this tray and we'll play all the games you like. Does that sound fair?"

Jeremiah was hesitant. I picked him up and placed him on my lap, hugging him close to me as he silently thought to himself. I will give him credit that he was no regular seven-year-old because any other would have just jumped to the gun if it meant being able to play but he was actually cautious with the consequences of his choices and is probably analyzing each way it could go.

"C'mon, kiddo, the food will spoil," I urged on, bouncing my knee to shake him playfully, making him squeal out a high laugh. "Deal or no deal?"

"Deal!" he squeaked out.

"You can have some too, Mandy," Zay insisted.

Mandy blushed lightly. "I-is it really okay?"

"Sure!" Zay said, rising up from his chair. "I'll even get you some ice cream."

"Really?"

"Yeah, let's go!"

Zay took Mandy by the hand and led her to the dessert section of the snack bar. Mandy's long, curly hair swished across the middle of her back as she skipped alongside Zay, eagerly falling into the pace of his walking.

"I want ice cream," whined Jeremiah.

I rubbed his hair, my nail scratching his scalp. "You eat now; you get ice cream later. Sound good?"

The smile on his face was so wide the tips could practically reach his ears and his eyes were so bright in excitement that nearly blinded me in adoration. It surprises me that I feel this way towards a boy I've met in less than two hours and never knew existed. He wasn't even my close friend's son yet I couldn't help but want to treat him with endless affection and compassion as if he truly belonged to Zay, as if he was actually my nephew.

"Deal!"

Jeremiah didn't wait for me as he lunged forward to the tray and began to shove in the first piece of food he could get his hands on, puffing out his cheeks whilst he chewed.

I couldn't help but laugh at the sight.

I could be wrong.

He is a lot like Zay in every way.

* * *

Three plates of pizza, one bowl of fruit cocktail, two rounds of ice cream sundaes, and a couple of glasses of water was enough to stuff us all to the brink of unconsciousness.

Everyone crashed sporadically all over the lounge. Jeremiah was sitting - well, sort of - at a large sofa next to an elder patient, arms folded on the armrest as a pillow in front of him. His shoulders would twitch so often but I was sure he was out like a light. Mandy, somehow, managed to pull out the pillow that Jeremiah was sitting on while she tried to keep him from awakening; she turned the narrow space between the sofa and the coffee table into a small resting area. The elder patient who was beside Jeremiah was leaning his head over the back of the sofa, nodding down to his chest every second but he never woke up from his slumber and a few mumbles would be heard from him.

This was the quiet after the storm - brunch turned out to be a chaos when a small food fight occurred between the four of us and I ended up being the one covered in the most food because I could not move from my chair. One of the nurses, who came by to clean our mess, left the room to go back to their recent duties, and Zay plopped next to me at the couch I had been moved to, his arm lying idly on the back behind my head. Listening to the gentle breathing of the two kids and the low, scratchy sounds of the television nearly lulled me to into a light sleep but I fought against it, knowing I would end up waking in the late of night afterwards.

The time passed by like a blur. Lunch had finished early due to me needing to take my mandatory rest of the day and we had to go back to my room after we bid our farewells to Mandy. In the room, Jeremiah kept himself entertained by playing with the button that would control my bed while we sat at the benches nearby the window, looking out at the warm yard and speaking about our old adventures in high school, mostly about our detentions and the old group we used to spend time with from our theater club.

RIght now we were cackling over an unforgettable memory; one time, Mr. Jones had the club do a team-building exercise, one where we help each other do origami, so they we could all bond to keep a realistic chemistry among us, on and off stage, and one of our members, Jackson, had accidentally folded something risque.

"And the look on Jones' face!" Zay guffawed, tipping his head back. "Priceless!"

"I swear I thought he was close to having a nosebleed!" I howled, clutching on my stomach. "I'm surprised that Jackson never got in trouble for that! I would have gotten detention on the spot if I did that!"

"And I would have gotten custodial work and extra school work!"

"Or write on the board a thousand times!"

"Or clean up the boards and the erasers!"

Or forced to read... _Twilight_ twenty times! All four of them!"

Zay visibly shuddered. "How could you even think that? That's horrible!"

I laughed. "Life is pain, Babineaux. Deal with it."

I thought I heard a click but then shrugged it off, thinking it was perhaps it was my mind just playing tricks on me.

"I thought I heard a familiar voice somewhere."

Jeremiah let out a wild gasp and he dropped the remote for the bed on the floor before he flew across the room to the bed where he launched himself in the opening arms of my best friend, Riley Matthews, soon to be changed into the last name of her future husband.

"Aunt Riley!" cheered Jeremiah.

"Hey Jerry!" squealed Riley as she wrapped her arms around the small boy, basically engulfing him in her embrace, lifting him off the ground and holding him on the hip. "How's my favorite nephew in the whole wide world?"

"Auntie, I'm your only nephew!" giggled Jeremiah, clutching her around the neck.

"For now," I added. "Hey Riles."

"Hey Peaches," she said as she approached us and sat on the bench beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder to give me a side-hug. "Sorry I came in late. I had a meeting to go to and they wouldn't let me out until we sealed the deal."

"That's fine, I had great company," I said. "How's everything with your husband? Shouldn't you be going back home to him?"

"He's working a long shift today," she answered. "I think he might come with dessert before visiting hours are over. I guarantee you that his double chocolate fudge cake is to die for. You'll want to kill for it."

"Or a bad case of diabetes waiting to happen," I mumbled.

Riley rolled her eyes with a light smirk. "Wait till you taste it." She bounced Jeremiah higher when he started to slide off. "Anyway, Zay, why didn't you tell me you were coming today? I would have brought Jerry's favorite lemon pie."

"I've been trying to get here all week," Zay said. "I barely got time to myself preparing for the play. I finally managed to get some free time in my schedule for today. Maybe we can come by later for those lemon pies."

"Better." Riley turned to me. "Maya, how are things with physical therapy?"

"Terrible," I groaned. "My body is so sore from all those stupid exercises and from falling so much. My legs are still throbbing from running."

Riley's eyes widen in surprise. "You ran? You ran on the first day?"

"Yeah and it was worse than gym class," I pouted in misery as I laid my head on her shoulder, letting my hair cascade over my face. I let out a small whine whilst Riley tightened her hold on me, rubbing her hand on my upper arm. "I wanna go home."

"Soon," she assured me. "Just a few more sessions and maybe a couple of extra tests from the doctors and you'll be home in no time. You're get to see everyone again - everyone are excited to see you again, that's for sure."

I formed a content smile at the sound of that. The thought of coming home to an apartment I grew up in, seeing everyone who formed up every shape of me, waiting for me with open arms and hopefully a week's supply of Paco's Tacos, and to see their smiles at the sight of me returning.

"I can't wait," I said.

"Me neither," Riley whispered into my hair as she buried her nose in my tresses and placed a gentle kiss on my scalp.

My response was to nuzzle my face deeper into her shoulder and let out a pleased sigh. I could even feel Zay lay his head on my shoulder as he wrapped his arms around my waist, embracing me tightly, silently telling me his kind thoughts through the warmth of his hug.

It is always nice to know that whenever you're forced to be pulled away from the people you've cared, protected, loved, and fought for good intentions, they would always been willing to drag you back in their lives because they want you there.

I guess I could say I am one of the lucky ones. Because I certainly feel like it as I am being squished to death between the two people I've cherished completely and utterly with all of my heart.

* * *

 **Please Review!**


	7. Chapter Six: Dearly Beloved

**A/N:** I do not own Girl Meets World, the characters, the locations, the songs and quotes mentioned in it.

* * *

 _My telephone wakes me in the morning_

 _Have to get up to answer the call._

 _So I think I'll go back to the family_

 _Where no one can ring me at all._

 _Living this life has its problems_

 _So I think that I'll give it a break._

 _Oh, I'm going back to the family_

 _'Cause I've had about all I can take._

\- Back to the Family; Jethro Tull

* * *

 _"You must remember, family is often born of blood, but it doesn't depend on blood. Nor is it exclusive of friendship. Family members can be your best friends, you know. And best friends, whether or not they are related to you, can be your family."_

― Trenton Lee Stewart, The Mysterious Benedict Society

* * *

 **Chapter Six: Dearly Beloved**

"Can you tell me more about your life?"

Riley stopped fluffing one of the pillows for me and met my curious gaze with her perplexed ones.

I had gotten back from one of my physical therapy sessions and recently took a shower so I was taking a mandatory rest (doctor's orders) when the thought came to me; I rarely knew much about Riley's life. She never talked about like Zay did about Vanessa and Jeremiah or mom did with her and Shawn. She was quiet about it and that worried me because she is never the silent type about her achievements, her pride, or her happiness. She doesn't brag but she doesn't like to keep it hidden.

Riley went back to fluffing my back once more before she placed it behind me and I gingerly leaned back, letting out a satisfied sigh as all of my muscles slumped into the foam cushion like dead weight. I was sore all around. I came to accept that I was stubborn when it comes to doing things I want over with and I was determined to finish my physical therapy quicker in less than two weeks. Despite the protests and suggestions of my trainer, Tracy, I kept going on with the exercises until eventually I was able to walk, or waddle, without losing my balance or needing crutches and the rails to stay upright.

It was only the fourth day.

According to Tracy, my recovery process was almost close to being done, she thought that I will be healed enough to be discharged soon. If it continues to go well then I could be going home soon.

Everybody who came to see me were in tears of joy when I told them.

My mother was a ball a blubbering bawling tears, barely able to form a word as she embraced me tightly into suffocation.

Shawn tried to keep his 'cool dad' demeanor through one of our FaceTime sessions but it was not taken serious as a few drops of tears would escape from his eyes and he would hastily wipe them off with an embarrassed yet pleasant chuckle.

Zay was not ashamed to show his sensitivity. He need multiple boxes of tissues and I had to hold him as he cried out his enjoyment of my possible early release.

Jeremiah was a bright sunshine to the news. He and I were able to bond during his visits with his father and we'd play the board games with Mandy whenever she brings them. It became natural for him to call me 'Auntie Maya' and it brought a warm sensation in my chest to see how his eyes would be alight at the sight of me while calling me that. He was happy to learn I would be able to go to visit him instead whenever I felt like it.

Riley's reaction was the one worth crying about; when I had told her what the doctors told me, I was on a wheelchair because we were going on one of our afternoon walks to the field, and she had dropped on her knees in front of me and her face was buried in my lap as she hugged my legs, drenching my jeans with her jubilant tears. People would stop and stare at us, unsure of what to do, but I ignore them and focused on holding Riley as she expressed her happiness to me, her words making me join with her in tears.

I wouldn't be honest if I say I wasn't excited - I really was. To hear I could be going back home after so long and reconnect with everyone I've missed gives me a feeling indescribable. I couldn't find the right words. And I think that is enough.

"I told you about my life," said Riley as she sat on the bed beside me, curled up on her side.

"No, you told me you're engaged," I corrected. "You never told me what you do - who you're marrying - if you have kids." I shifted my weight, wincing slightly, to the side and dropped onto the pillow, facing her. "Tell me."

Riley sighed. "Peaches…"

I held up my right hand, revealing the silver ring around my middle finger, the symbol of the bond between me and this woman who has remarkably changed my life. My lifeline, my salvation. A smug smirk formed on my face when I heard her suck in a sharp breath and her eyes widen panic.

"Tell me right now," I said. "Ring Power."

Riley groaned in despair, flinging her head back into the pillow. "Why did we ever make that a thing? It's such a disadvantage to me!"

"And a lovely advantage to me," I grinned happily, lowering my hand. "Why don't you want to tell me about your life? Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine," she said. "I just don't know how you'll react to it."

"Riley, I just found out my mother is working with celebrities - my father is working with a famous rock band I'm obsessed with - Zay is a broadway director with a child - Farkle is traveling the world like some treasure hunter - Smackle is a professor in one of the most popular universities in the world - both living in England - Josh is engaged - and Lucas went AWOL after serving our country for a few years. I doubt anything you say could cause me any harm."

Riley pursed her lips. "Okay, you made your point. But...just promise that if you feel anything about what I tell you, let me know and we will change the subject entirely."

"I promise."

Riley held up her hand that holds her ring. I rolled my eyes and held her hand tightly, hearing the clink of our rings as a silent deal, before I pulled it down.

"Now tell me!"

"What do you want to know?"

"What do you do for a living? What's your job?"

Riley smiled. "Believe it or not, I'm actually Editor in Chief of Vogue."

My eyes were probably saucers and my smile could be a replica of the Joker's. "Are you serious, Honey?"

"I am. I went back to college two years after the terrorist attack after my parents convinced me that you'd want me to do that but I didn't go to Princeton - I went to Cornell. I didn't want to be far away when you woke up." She shifted closer to me and laid her head on my shoulder as she took my hand, tracing lines on my palm with her nails. "I studied psychology and literature - top of my classes - and joined the local campus newspaper. I started off as an advice column under the name 'Miss Nancy' and people really liked the advices I gave them."

I snorted. "Really, Riles? Miss Nancy? You stole that from Drake and Josh. I would have obviously figured it out it was you."

"But nobody else did," Riley countered. "Anyway, before I lose track of things, I'm actually involved in a couple of organizations for the LGBT community like the ILGA and the Gay-Straight Alliance. I'm even part of the ASPCA where we help animals from homes and cure them. I'm even helping the NAACP."

"Wow, Riles, that's...that's a lot," I gasped out. "You're really doing a lot to make the world a better place like I knew you would."

"Only as much as I can," she said. "Of course I'm getting hate from people who don't share the same beliefs as I do and some of the things they say does hurt me from time to time because it really does hit me in the very core but I learned to not let it get to me as it used to. I'm changing the world in a better place for people - I think that matters way more than the people who don't have the courage to face the problems going on in the world and try to fix it, don't you think?"

"That's right," I smiled gleefully as I slipped one arm around her, holding her close to have her move her head from my shoulder to my chest and rubbed her back. "Oh, Honey, you grew up a lot but you still haven't changed at the same time. Always trying to fix things…"

"I can't help it!" she laughed. "It's like a natural impulse for me. If I see something so wrong, it looks unfair to me and I can't help but want to make it seem fair for everybody, you know? I don't like bad things and unfortunately there are because there are people who really don't care to make it better. And it's like when you try to do good, those same people who don't care come out and try to stop you. It still doesn't make sense to me why they do that."

I sighed while laying my head back. "They're idiots. They're just scared to do anything because they don't want to be in your position and getting the hate. They want to be like everybody else but you - you keeping doing what you're best at. You're the best thing that this world has ever gotten in a long time."

"Aww, Peaches," Riley cooed as she wrapped her arms around my waist and snuggled into my chest, burying her face between my breast. "You're so sweet."

"Aren't I always?"

"Is that a trick question?"

I rolled my eyes. "Alright, alright, enough of this mushy stuff. You know I don't do well with sentimental stuff."

Riley laughed graciously as she pulled back from me and leaned into the pillow by her elbow, resting her head against her knuckles while she warmly stared down at me with her doe cocoa brown eyes. I gave her the same expression because I missed her dearly without knowing I did and I love her deeply.

It was odd seeing her like this; her long hair pulled back into a messy bun, the laugh lines formed by her smile along with her cute dimples, and the youth of her childhood blended with her wisdom of her adulthood. She looked the same yet she was different. I recognize her but she was a stranger to me.

Riley was still the same girl I knew who holds a strong belief in being able to fix the world from its atrocious state, to save it from itself, and she is aware of it all but she doesn't like it despite that. She was two in one to me. I couldn't decide whether I like it or not.

"Tell me more," I urged. "Who's the lucky guy who came to take my best friend away from me?"

"He's not taking me away from you," said Riley with a chuckle. "No man in the world can do that. The closest thing he could ever take away from you is for a date."

"But you're gonna be committed to him for life," I pouted. "And I'll be a lonely old hag with forty cats as my new company, yelling at kids who play on my yard, and watching Spanish stories that I don't care about and complain like I do just to pass up the time until the day I die."

Riley blinked. "That's a very detailed description."

"Eh," I shrugged. "When you're stuck in a hospital full of other old farts who like to hog the TV, you got no other choice but to watch what they watch. And let me tell you that half of the things are so depressing. I thought people would stop watching the news in the future."

Riley giggled. "You never liked the news."

"Exactly. So why torture me with it?" I groaned, rolling onto my front to hide my face in the pillow, leaning against Riley as she tenderly rubbed my back, the sensation both familiar and comforting to me.

Riley chuckled, shaking her head, and continued to rub my back. I turned my head to the side, brushing my hair away from my face, and made a devious smirk as I probed my chin in the palm of my hands.

"So who's the hubby?" I asked, my smirk growing when I see her become flustered and her pale cheeks become two bright red circles that could be mistaken for Pikachu's. "Who's the lucky fellow who managed to snatch my best friend and sweep her off into the sunshine on a white stallion like she dreamed of?"

"Maya, stop!" she squeaked, dropping onto the pillow while covering her red face with her arms. "You're embarrassing me!"

"Well, I wouldn't be fulfilling my duties as your best friend if I didn't embarrass you, now would I?" I said innocently. "Besides you're so cute when you stumble over your words and can't get me to shut up."

Riley lifted her arm to glare at me - and failing miserably as it seems more like a small pout - and mumbled out a quick, "Shut up."

"C'mon, Honey," I encouraged, giving her a light nudge with my shoulder. "Spill the details. I've been comatose for over ten years so the least you could do is tell me who is insane enough to handle you aside from me. This guy is either very special or he is so insane that he needs to take a trip to a psych ward."

"Ha, ha," she laughed sarcastically. "How funny. I forgot how to laugh."

Feeling like she was stalling, I decided to take some drastic measures and she did not see it coming; I quickly hopped onto Riley, causing shriek in surprise, and then we wrestled around the bed with her trying to escape from my grasp while I tried to find an angle to pin her against the pillow. She has surprisingly gotten stronger.

"Tell me!"

"Maya, get off!"

"Not until you tell me!"

"You're suffocating me!"

"Then give up!"

"No!"

"Give up!"

"No!"

"Surrender Rileytown to me!"

"Never!"

Our limbs were flying around for a while, grunting as we kept trying to capture and slip away from each other, giggling occasionally whenever we accidentally brushed against our sensitive spots, and continued to shout at each other, not caring whether any patients or doctors could hear us outside of the room. I know some of the noises we are making could be misleading, especially when our movements are making the bed squeak slightly, and I should feel offended about this, but I was more focused on the task in hand.

"Tell me!" I demanded. "Or perish the consequences of as a hostage to Mayaville!"

Eventually, I finally managed to hold her hands against the pillow by her wrist after I tickled her on her sides and make her strength falther. I made sure to put all of my weight on her torso to prevent her from flipping us over and I smirked mischievously down at her pouting face, her hair fluffed around her face like a halo.

"You cheated," she said.

"All's fair in love and war, Honey," I remarked. "Besides, I learn faster when I cheat, remember? So...spill, sister."

Riley released a sigh as she dropped her head into the pillow, her face nearly covered by her puffy hair, and pursed her lips whilst a look of contemplation masked over her flawless face. I released one hand to gingerly brush back her hair and then leaned back on her stomach as I patiently waited for her to speak, crossing my arms.

"Promise you won't get mad at me with what I tell you?" she pleaded softly; her change of tone instantly broke down my wall of catastrophe and transgression.

"Why would I get mad at you?" I rolled off of her and laid next to her, keeping my curious eyes on her, our hairs tangled in a messy blend of brown and blonde on the pillow. "It's not like you did something unforgivable. That'd be unlike you if you did."

"Probably not unforgivable to you," murmured Riley. "It's a long story."

"It's a long day."

Riley turned her body to the side to face me and I did the same. Her eyes flashed her hesitation and small sense of fear that I could not understand the purpose behind it. I couldn't fathom as to why she would feel scared to speak to me about anything - I couldn't remember a time that she would be afraid to tell me anything. I can recall the time she didn't tell me she was being bullied because she felt humiliated but never frightened.

"I haven't told you exactly the whole story between Lucas and I," she began. "At least not what happened after we broke up and you fell into a coma. Something happened between us that Lucas didn't react so well to it."

"Like what?"

Riley bit her lip. "Well...while I was in college and Lucas joined the army, my professor had given us all in an assignment where we had to write about destination and exploration. Each of us had to go on a trip he assigned us to due to our writing styles and ironically, he thought I was more well-suited for a more natural route even though I was raised in the city. My group had to go to discover the stories behind mountains and their purposes to being created. I went abroad; we went to China to learn about Mount Emei and Mount Tai."

I shot upright with a gasp. "No way! Did you learn Chinese?"

"Only a little."

"Say something in Chinese! Anything!"

"Alright, alright!" she giggled giddily before pausing for a moment to think and then she spoke in an impressively perfected accent, "Zhōngguó shì yīgè wěidà de jīngyàn, shēnghuó, dàn nǐ zàicì xǐng lái yǒngyuǎn shì wǒ céngjīng fāshēngguò de zuì hǎo de shìqíng."

"What does that mean?"

Riley smiled fondly. "It means 'China was a great experience to live but having you wake up again would always be the best thing that has ever happen to me'."

"Aww, Honey," I cooed as I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and held her close to me. "You learned how to be all sappy in another language!"

Riley scoffs playfully and pushed me away jokingly with a laugh. We both dropped back into the pillows again, our hands clasped over our stomachs, legs tangled between the sheets, and our hair splayed all over.

"So what did you learn in China?" I asked.

"I learned a lot of things, mostly about it's culture, and it wasn't easy either," she said. "But my favorite moment was when we got to have a free break during the tours. I was able to talk to the locals, watch the shows seen in the markets, go to the stores, learn sacred dances, and even got to learn some of the prayers they say to their gods. I even managed to get extra information about the mountains that the others couldn't find on the tour. It was a great experience to go through - we should go there one day together."

"Maybe after we finish backpacking in Europe."

"I'm still holding onto that."

"What else happened on this trip?" I questioned. "What does this have to do with you and Lucas?"

"It's more like who actually," she said. "You see, I was on that trip for a few months and Lucas was still in training. We kept in contact through it all and our feelings for each other sort of stayed every time we talked to each other through phone or video or even when we exchanged letters - they didn't fade away. It was to the point that we talked about getting back together again and make plans for future dates for when we go back to New York. We were planning to start over where we left off, maybe even move in together since he wasn't going back to Texas anymore, and possibly further our relationship even more."

I knitted my brows together. "So what happened?"

"On the third month in China, our tour guide sort of fell ill - she got the flu - and our substitute was an hour late that we missed our first reservation to have a private theater performance that tells us how the Sacred Mountains of China came to be. We managed to get to the other places but I was really upset because I really, really, wanted to see the show," she sighed. "I guess I was making it obvious to the tour guide because he came to me and told me that he could arrange another show for me before our class curfew. I was a bit skeptical at first because I didn't know this man and I hardly spoke two words to him but I went with him and - oh Lord, Maya, the show was just so beautiful, I want to go back again."

"I'll search it up on YouTube later," I smirked.

"There isn't - you need to buy a ticket because it's a live play," Riley continued. "But if I'm being honest, I barely paid attention to the play because I was listening to the story in the way he says it because he made it sound more interesting. He studied cultures around the world because of his job - he helps people get to a place they always wanted to be in their lives."

I shot upright at her words, staring down at her sheepish face in astonishment. I already had a thought on who her mystery husband but I didn't want to jump to conclusion yet I couldn't stop thinking about the obvious. Her shy smile, her red cheeks, her meek eyes, and her thumbs twiddling in a guarded manner - she was showing the signs, she was telling me through her movements.

"Riley," I said slowly. "Is it who I think it is?"

"It depends," she mumbled quietly, "who do you think it is?"

I raised a brow. "How about you finish your story first?"

"Okay," she smiled nervously. "Well, he never substituted for us again because our tour guide got a lot better. We did keep in contact, though. He'd go around traveling the world wherever his field of work is needed while I stayed studying in China. We'd see how we're doing, what we're doing, talk about our interests through the morning for me and the night for him, sometimes we'd video call, send each other's pictures of our adventures, talk about our families, and other stuff. We grew close the past six months after we met."

"And Lucas?"

"Lucas and I...we sort of drifted apart. More on my part rather than his. Whenever he tries to contact me, I'd be too tired from a long day and sleeping, and when I try to call him in the morning, he's busy. We didn't get to stay in contact as much for the first four months after I met my husband because of this and eventually, I grown used to not having Lucas around and started liking the idea of having my husband next to me when I go home to New York." Riley bit her lip. "I noticed this but I didn't act on it - I kept on trying to make it work with Lucas because I still have some feelings for him but it started to get difficult when the effort was dying and I was beginning to feel tired to force myself to connect with him. I never had that struggle before with him. Soon, I accepted the inevitable and I finally told Lucas the truth; I didn't love him anymore and I started growing feelings for another."

"Did he take it well?" I asked.

Riley shook her head. "He was hurt and angry. He was hurt because I caught feelings for someone else and he was angry that I didn't tell him as soon as I realized what I was feeling and that he wasted his time on me when I didn't even want it anymore. He could have moved on and saw me as a best friend rather than his future wife or the mother of his children…" she trailed off, her voice cracked at the end, and her eyes were glistening brightly as fresh tears started to well up.

I was quick to act; I wrapped my arms around her and cradled her to my chest as she released a series of ragged sobs into my shirt, clutching onto me like her life depended on it, all the while I stroked her hair in attempted comfort. Her body rattled uncontrollably as she weeped tragically, blubbering under her breath, as she tried to pulled me closer as humanly possible.

"I never had him so angry at me before," she whimpered. "I-I mean...I know h-he was hurt but...t-the way he looked at me was...was…"

"Shh," I shushed her softly. I continued to run my fingers through her hair, raking my nails across her scalp, knowing that the rhythmic movement is enough to soothe her back into a calmer state.

"Do you think Lucas disappeared because of me?" she asked.

"No, no, sweetie," I cooed. "Of course, Lucas didn't disappeared because of you. I'm sure he has his own personal reasons why he's not found."

"But what if he's gone because he couldn't forgive me for that? He hasn't given me a chance to explain to him. We used to always tell each other everything and now it's like we're strangers. He didn't even tell me when he came back from the war."

"Then he's a an idiot. He should have given you at least a chance to talk about it." I gave her a chaste kiss on the top of her head. "Also that'd be too much of a Huckleberry move of him to do and very movie cliche too; disappearing without a trace over a broken heart? That's a bit over dramatic even for him."

"I know...I just miss him. He was there for me while you were in a coma. And I honestly thought we were going to end up together forever but then things changed. I guess I was just being a stupid little girl holding onto her pipe dream of a fairytale with her first love."

"Pumpkin, don't think like that," I said strongly. "This isn't the Riley I know. There's nothing wrong with having that kind of dream - all girls wish for that fairytale in that age. I had it too, just less sugary and no birds singing. I'm sure Lucas thought the same thing."

"Yeah, you're right." Riley lifted her head to rest her chin against my chest and looking up at me with a gentle smile. "Look at what a excellent job I did as your good influence."

I smiled cutely at her. "And I deeply appreciate it."

Riley lays her head back down on my chest and snuggles into my side as if I were her personal teddy bear. I tried not to shuddered. I never liked Beary the Bear after Auggie bit his face off - he looked like reject off of Five Nights at Freddy's.

"So tell me more about this mystery man of yours," I said. "Although, I have a pretty big hunch on who it is."

Riley releases a huge breath before she untangled herself from me and hopped off the bed to walk across the room to her bag she left on a chair. I watched in curiosity as she pulled out a laptop and a flash drive from her bag, raising a quizzical eyebrow while she returned to me with a sheepish smile. She climbed to my side, opened the laptop that instantly lit up, and she popped the flash drive in the side.

"I figured you'd want to know about my life," she began as a file popped on the screen and she moved her mouse to click it open, revealing a series of digital pictures inside it. "I made this when I started college so you could catch up quicker on everyone's adventures. I wanted to show it to you sooner but I thought it'd be best that you recovered first before seeing all of this - I didn't want to overwhelm you with everything that's changed."

I watched her click on the first picture and activated the slideshow before she placed the laptop on my lap, leaning back into the pillow as I gazed at the many memories I lost the chance to live in. They were all beautiful and Riley explained to me about each of them; the Christmas cards, the days when everyone was sent off to college, the milestones of Auggie's life through graduation pictures, seeing him look so dazzling in his suit for the school dances, laughing at his flustered state before his first date with Ava. There was also the celebration of Mr. Matthews being promoted to principal. I wondered how he looked right now - probably gray hair and wrinkled up like a raisin. There was also Topanga blowing out the candles to her celebratory cake for making it Head of the New York office.

Then came the stories of my friends.

Farkle boarding his plane, winning scientific awards for the competitions he entered, him participating in his internship, him dressed in his dark green graduation gowns accepting his diploma from his former headmaster, him kneeled next to one of the many historic discoveries he found during one of his extravagant travels, and then him being on one knee proposing to an astonished Smackle.

And there is Smackle holding an armful of first place trophies, her shaking hands with some famous scientist guy I didn't know (Riley says her name is Jane Goodall), a couple of pictures of the times she came to visit anybody during her free time from school, her giving her valedictorian speech at graduation, her standing within a group of other professors she works with, and the last one being of her kissing Farkle after accepting his proposal.

There were even pictures of Zay's time in college and afterwards. I got to see the growing process of Vanessa's pregnancy with Jeremiah, seeing the adorable videos of Zay being supportive and lovingly, and then the family portraits after Jeremiah's birth. Most of them were of Zay and Jeremiah going to the public park, the zoo, the amusement park, and also the openings of Zay's previous plays over the years. The others followed the next few years after Jeremiah's birth, his Christmases, his New Year's, his Valentine's Days, and his birthdays.

Then came the photos of Riley's life - the ones I really wanted to see. I could see the memories of her adventures in China with her standing within the temples found on her assigned mountains, the local theaters that tell the historical stories of their ancestors, the classmates she worked with on the trip, and other landmarks that attract the eye of a tourist. It was all magnificent, truly fascinating. I would need to ask Riley to lend them to me so I could sketch them out later because these pictures needed to be appreciated - their captivating appeals need to be seen.

Soon came the cause of her happiness. The last seen pictures of her trip are of her and who I assumed to be her husband. He was a rather dashing guy; his messy hair nearly reaching his gorgeous ocean diamond eyes, his sharp jawline that seems it could cut a finger if touched, and then his bewitching smile was distracting. He looked the way he used to back in that damned ski lodge in freshmen year yet, as I went through the pictures, I could see he only grew more handsome over the years he spent it with Riley.

"This is quite a surprise, Riles," I said in astonishment. "He's the last person I expected you to get engaged to."

Riley blushed. "I know."

It is hard to forget the guy who was one of the reasons why the ridiculous triangle from years ago was squashed; Evan Fishel. He is the son of Lauren Fishel, the girl who was apparently in love with Matthews in our age, and he wanted to be a sherpa. I guess he lived the dream for a while before he decided to settle down with Riley.

"You really like this guy?" I asked.

"I really love him."

I shivered at the firm tone of her voice. She was honest with her words. She believed in them and trusted them. It was true to her, not another temporary fling to her. This relationship, this engagement of hers, is something real. It is solid.

"Does he treat you well?"

"He treats me like his princess."

"Has he ever hurt you?"

"The only time I got hurt by him was when we had our very first fight. I had gotten back to New York but Evan stayed traveling the world. The distance was difficult and we tried to make it work but we started to argue about our lack of communication. Eventually we ended up taking a break. We didn't hear from each other for seven months and then one day he surprised me by picking me up from school and saying he found a steady job in New York."

I smiled. "How long were you two together before he proposed to you?"

"Our relationship got serious when we moved in together after a year together and he proposed to me on our fifth anniversary."

"No kids?"

Riley suddenly became shy. Anxiety filled me to see her like this. She then stopped the slideshow, clicked back to the previous page, and skipped a couple of photos before she landed on a few that made me gasp. It was a professional of the day she gave birth to two gorgeous baby girls; the family portrait of Riley cradling a fragile newborn close to her with a fond smile, a few tears shedding from her eyes, and Evan cuddling them in his arms from behind with his chin resting on Riley's shoulder, a tender smile moist from his pleased tears. The light of the room was bright, giving it a white glow around them, emphasizing the euphoria of a miracle brought onto them and I could see the halo from above gracing down on them for creating a new life.

"They are my daughters," she said. "They're twins."

"They're beautiful."

"Farkle took the picture. There's more but that one is my favorite."

"Wow," I breathed out. "They're beautiful girls. I can't believe they're so small."

"Unfortunately they're not that small anymore," Riley sighed. "They're four now."

"What are their names?"

"This one on the left is Elle. She has Evan's smile and his eyes but she looks like me. She is such a daddy's girl." she said. "The one on the right is Penelope. She is also a daddy's girl. They both gave their first kicks whenever Evan would have his hand on my belly or talk to them."

I turned to her in shock. "Did you say Penelope?"

Riley nodded. "I did. She reminds me a lot like you in every way. She rather play with toy cars than Barbie dolls or watch James Bond than Mickey Mouse."

"Smart girl." I looked at my brunette best friend. "Thank you for naming her after me."

Riley smiled softly and then wrapped her arms around my shoulder as she laid her head against mine. "That's because she made me miss you even more. You'll love the girls, I promise. There's never a dull moment with those two."

"I didn't think you'd have twins," I admitted. "I thought they'd be at least a few years apart."

"I didn't think I would either but it was sort of expected considering that twins do run in Evan's family. He has uncles who are twins and his grandmothers are twins. The twin gene never dies with his family."

"With everyone letting their hormones run crazy and humping each other like a bunch of bunnies, it's no surprise that the constant reproduction of the identical human race is still happening," I mumbled as I scrolled to the other picture; it was of Riley and Evan sitting in front of a familiar window that held a view of colorful leaves, the sun glowing a glittering gold, fluffy pillows and curtains that gave the area a calming effect. "Hey, isn't that the window of the ski lodge we went to?"

Riley nodded shyly. "Yeah, we went back there for our first anniversary. It was Evan's idea. We had a lot of fun, especially when he already knew the place. He even showed me some spots that nobody else knew."

"Why would he take you back to that place? And on your anniversary too?" I closed the laptop and pushed it aside to the foot of the bed. "Shouldn't it be taboo or something like that? That's where you and Lucas got together - you're even sitting on the same window where he chose you."

"I didn't understand it either," she answered truthfully. "It felt weird celebrating my new relationship in the place where my old relationship was formed and with a guy who I still cared about to this day but when he explained to me his intentions, I couldn't resist, it was a little romantic."

I raised a brow. "Care to elaborate?"

"If you think about it, if it weren't for the ski lodge, Evan and I wouldn't have happened either," she explained. "Back then, I was all about Lucas this, Lucas that, that I never considered having a relationship with another guy and when I tried, well, I'd end up the same way I did with Charlie Gardner. Lucas was my first love and that won't change but, despite all the plans we made in the future, I would sometimes have a weird feeling in my gut that made me nervous. I talked to my mother about it one time and she told me that it's usually a feeling of uneasiness because I probably didn't know what I want."

"Okay…"

"And thinking about it back then now, she was right," she continued. "I didn't know what I wanted. Yes, I did love Lucas. Yes, I knew that I would have loved to live a life with him. But I didn't want it with him because I couldn't really picture Lucas and I like my parents are together. I felt like I was trying to base my relationship off of theirs. I didn't want to have the same relationship as my parents - I wanted my own story. I didn't want to say the same things they say about marrying their first love and then repeating the cycle with my own children. That's why during senior year, we broke it off - I knew what I wanted by then."

"You didn't want to give up Princeton for Lucas," I concluded. "Just like your mother did for your father. She gave up on Yale for him."

"That's when I knew we were heading the same path as my parents," she added. "Even if I didn't go to Texas, Lucas would have given up his scholarship to stay with me in New York and that would still be heading in the same direction on his part." She licked her lips. "Don't get me wrong, I love my parent's story and they got their happy ending but...it's not what I wanted."

I smirked. "And with Evan?"

"With Evan...it's more like what I needed rather than wanted. He treats me like a princess but he does get to me when he wants to. He didn't look like it much back then, Maya, but he does have a strong voice for his opinions and he is intimidating sometimes depending on his mood but I strangely find it attractive," she giggled meekly. "I didn't know how my parents would react to my relationship with him, considering he is the son of the woman who almost broke them up, so I kept it a secret for a couple of months until I saw where it was going."

I let out an exaggerated gasp as I placed a hand on my heart and stared at her with wide, astonished eyes. "Riley Eleanor Matthews-Soon-To-Be-Fishel! I am appalled! How could you keep such a secret from your parents?"

"Do you know who Evan's mother is? I thought they would kill me!"

"And how did they react when you told them?"

Riley suddenly became a mute; she glanced down at her lap as she twiddled her thumbs nervously. I inched closer to her, a devious grin masking over my face, as I eyed her dangerously. I may be thirty-one but I'm still with the mind of a nineteen-year-old so I shouldn't be judge for my childish behaviors.

"How did Matthews react, 'Ole Saint Riley?" I teased.

"My dad had a freakout," she responded reluctantly. "He was more worried about how my mom would react and how things would turn out when they have to meet Evan's parents, mostly his mother."

"And how that go?"

"It was...uncomfortable. Too much history between those three. They managed, somehow, to get through the whole dinner but we never tried to arrange another dinner like that again. The last time we got them together was when we announced our engagement and for the twin's birth.."

I laughed. I don't do it to be a terrible person but I always find pleasure in Matthew's displeasure when it comes to Riley dating men who he disapproves. I enjoyed it very much when Lucas dated Riley. It was just my sick sense of humor to find joy in life.

"So the ski lodge made you realize what you want in life?" I inquired.

"No, the ski lodge was the...well...let's say the 'road' to me learning what I want," she corrected. "That's where I met Evan and he did have a part in me getting together with Lucas. If it weren't for Evan making up his version of the Couple's Game, the triangle wouldn't have ended because he helped us all learn how we're not compatible with the other. He kind of helped clear our heads."

I pursed my lips. I would admit that she was right in a way. Evan did help in his own way with the whole triangle situation. I don't remember either of us thanking him for that. Maybe I should when I meet him again. If it weren't for Evan then I probably wouldn't have seen how Lucas or Josh reacted to my liking of action and breaking of rules; Lucas showed great disapproval due to the consequences of his actions in his past and Josh was smiling in amusement towards me. It made me see how opposite I am compared to Lucas and how much we do clash whenever we're together.

"I guess he's alright," I murmured. "I guess I'll have to meet him."

"You probably will later today," Riley said. "He's planning to get off of work earlier and he gonna pick up the twins from the daycare on his way here. He might even come with my father. Not in the same car, though," she added.

"That's gonna be one hell of a reunion," I snorted.

"You have no idea."

I couldn't stop my laughter from the tortured expression that fell on Riley's cute face and I had to use a pillow as a shield from all the little, playful smacks she is attempting to land on me for reacting that way.

* * *

A couple hours later, my nurse had cut our moment short, stating that I needed to take one of my scheduled showers, and Riley did not hesitate to shove me in the bathroom with all my toiletries and a bundle of fresh clothes.

I began to strip out of my galaxy onesies - it was a gift from Farkle for my seventeenth birthday and I never admit that I do use it or that I like it - once the door was closed behind me. Unbuttoning it was difficult since it clung to my body like a second skin and I grew out of my usual size. I went to turn on the faucet once I was left in my undergarments, dipping my finger in the rushing flow to measure the temperature, and then waited for the tub to fill up.

In the meantime, I occupied myself by brushing my teeth, thoroughly removing all traces of the lunch I recently had with Riley, and trying to pull my hair up in a loose bun with a clip I had borrowed from Riley before I turned on the sink to splash some water on my face, wiping away the grogginess in my eyes.

The tub was almost filled to the top with steam surfacing from the heat of the warm water so I shut off the faucet. I unclasped my bra, pulling the straps off of my arms then slipped my boy shorts off, carefully stepping out of them, knowing that my legs are still wobbly despite the good process I've done. I dumped my clothes on the top of the toilet lip with my rumpled onesies while stepping into the full tub. It stung my skin greatly but it oddly became relaxing after a moment of stillness passed by.

I exhaled as I closed my eyes and leaned against the porcelain walls of the tub, lowering in the water until it reached my shoulders. I turned to my side, bending my legs slightly, and crossed my arms on the edge of the tub to rest my head on top of them with a sigh as I went through everything I learned today.

Riley is Chief Editor of Vogue. Riley attended and graduated from Cornell after two years since I've been in a coma. Riley and Lucas had a horrible breakup that led them to be distant strangers. RIley was engaged to Evan, the son of the woman who nearly broke her parents apart, the same boy, now man, who helped me and Riley to break out of the terrible triangle, the same guy who Lucas was jealous about, and is now the same guy who managed to sneak his way into Riley's heart. And lastly, Riley has children - she is a mother.

It was all so weird to me. To have the words children, mother, and Riley in the same sentence was so foreign. I can't picture her living up that image yet. Last I knew her, Riley was a young girl on her way to meet the world, and now that I woke up again, she had already faced it without me. She has a job, she is balancing taxes, she is paying bills, and she is nurturing two halves of her to become fine women like her.

She is having her life and I wasn't there to start it with her.

A dam of tears was built in my eyes and tumbled down on my face. I took in two deep breaths to regain calmness before I rubbed my eyes dry and laid my head down on my arms again, trying to soak up the ease of the warm water. Until a sharp knock on the door made my glance up and it creaked open slightly, as a blob of brown peeked in, two diamond blue eyes staring at me with unwavering curiosity and eagerness.

"Hello," she said politely. She held a confidence I never seen a girl in her age have. She has slightly chubby cheeks, rosy pink, sparkling blue eyes, and long, luscious chocolate hair that ran down her back like a waterfall. She has a delightful smile.

I stared at her incredulously. "Hello? What are you doing here?"

"Can I come in?" she asked, ignoring my question entirely.

I thought about it; I was in a tub, completely bare for anyone to see and soaked to the bone aside from my hair. It would be a horrible case scenario for me, a thirty-one year old woman, to be stuck in with a baby-faced child. The last thing I need is for someone who works here to burst through the door and to see us in this small, cramped room full of steam and a relaxing sensation, and decided to call security for pedophilia.

"Where's your mother?" I countered.

My answer was given when I heard Riley's voice through the crack of the door, "Penelope! What did I say? You can't just walk in on people in the bathroom!"

I gasped in surprise while I sat upright abruptly, causing some of the water to splash out on to the floor, and the little girl giggled in amusement at my state. I couldn't believe that this young girl is the same Penelope I saw in that picture because she looked way more precious. She was talking and walking. The one in the picture did not do those things. If I wasn't naked, I would have her in my arms right now and take in the moment of finally meeting this sweet child similar to me.

She then glanced behind her as the door opened slightly more, revealing Riley giving Penelope stern look I would have laughed at because she hardly ever wore that expression before, and she is holding an identical girl in her arm against her hip, who I can easily assume to be Elle. She was covering her smile behind her hands, a sparkling mischief in her crystal blue eyes, and Penelope was scowling back up at her, her tiny hands balled into fists.

"Sorry, mommy," she said.

"Don't do it again," she said then turned to me as she lightly patted on Penelope's head. "Sorry, Peaches. She's a little persistent one and she couldn't wait for you to come out to meet you."

"I don't mind," I lied, laying my head down. I can hear the door creak wider and then click shut. Feet pattered across the wet floor and then a gentle thud was heard in front of me. I looked to see Riley and her daughters sitting on top of a folded shower on their knees.

"This wasn't the way I wanted you girls to meet but I guess it's better than anything," said Riley. "So, Maya, this one is Penelope and this one is Elle."

I studied the two girls; they did look like Riley from the bone structure to the soft skin but their personalities literally clash in difference.

Elle was more of a feminine kind; she wore a frilly, baby blue bow that matched with her sundress and a pair of black flats. Her luscious hair was tangled into an elegant braid over her back, making her seem like she was Elsa from Frozen. The tiny smile made her look like a real little princess innocently watching horses gallop across an open field.

Meanwhile Penelope proved to be her alternate; she wore a black, sleeveless dress with a white logo that says 'Not All Girls Wear Pink' and a pair of white checkered shoes. She also wore purple leggings beneath the skirt of her dress. Her hair was loose, untamed and in wild waves over her shoulders. She held a slight smirk of amusement.

"Nice to meet you girls," I said uncomfortably. I wasn't sure how I should respond in this scene. What else could you say to the children of your best friend you didn't know existed until you wake up twelve years later?

Keeping her suspicious eyes on me, Elle tugged on Riley's sleeve. "Mommy, who is this lady?"

Riley smiled. "This is mommy's best friend, sweetie. Her name is Auntie Maya."

I smiled as Riley brushed back a few strands of Elle's hair from her pretty face. The sight was undeniably sweet to witness. I always knew Riley would make a tremendous mother when she becomes one. She held that sense of unconditional care and unbreakable support in those she loves strongly, and the way how she would treat Auggie is so lovable, like she would give him the better portions of the world if she could.

"How come I never met you?" asked Penelope. I glanced at Riley and she quickly caught on.

"She's been busy with a couple of things," she lied easily; it is nice to know my bad influence really caught onto her. "It took her a while to finish them but she's finally back home and the first thing she wanted to do is see her nieces."

"Are you nice, Auntie Maya?" asked Elle, suddenly looking down at her tiny feet. She played with the tip of her braid a little, twirling it between her fingers, before she finally looked up again with her doe eyes.

"That depends," I said. "Are you scared of me?"

Riley chuckled lightly as she shifted around on the towel so she could be facing me entirely and picked up a plastic cup from the floor. She dipped it in the water before dumping the amount on my bare back to rinse off my nerves. I couldn't believe that I was holding goose bumps from talking to a bunch of little girls.

"No," Elle answered honestly.

"Then I am nice." I turned to the other half. "And what about you? Are you scared of me?"

Penelope gave me a toothless smile. "Nope!"

"Told you she is a lot like you," added Riley as she filled the cup again and dumped it on my back repeatedly.

"I can see that," I grinned. I reached out one hand to playfully ruffle Penelope's hair, making her squeak and try to swat my hand away but I'd just laugh at her small pout. "You and I are gonna get along great, kid."

"Are you really my Auntie?" she asked. "I don't know you."

I pursed my lips. "I am. I just been away for a while for...important things. But I'm here now."

"Are you staying?"

I nodded. "I am."

"Even for my birthday?"

"Yes."

"Are you gonna meet Santa Claus with us?"

"Absolutely."

"What about the Easter Bunny?"

"I'll find all the chocolate eggs before the big kids too."

"And Halloween?"

"We can dress up like the Sanderson Sisters from Hocus Pocus."

Penelope pouted. "No! I wanna be Halloweentown!"

"But I wanna be Moana!" said Elle.

"I wanna be a witch!"

"I wanna be a princess!"

"Girls! Girls!" intruded Riley, placing her hands on the girl's shoulders and arched a marble brow. "Behave now, the both of you or do you want me to call in your father?"

The twins immediately closed their mouths and looked away from their mother as they shifted their feet nervously. I had to hide my smile behind my hand and stifle my giggle.

"Now why don't you girls tell Auntie Maya what you did today in school?" Riley offered.

Penelope glanced at me. "Do you wanna know?"

"Yeah, sure," I shrugged. "Is there anything going on?"

"There is!" Elle replied enthusiastically, her eyes brighten up like stars. "Our teacher, Miss Stewart, said we're going gonna have a dance!" She held up her tiny index finger. "First one!"

"Ooh, what kind of dance are you going to do?" I tried to sound as cheerful about it; I was never really a fan of school dances. "When is it?"

"On Halloween," Penelope said matter-of-factly. "I already know what my costume is. Daddy is helping me make it. I'm gonna be a witch!"

"And I'm gonna be a princess!" Elle repeated.

"What are you gonna be, Auntie?" asked Penelope.

"Hmm, I never really thought about what I'm gonna be this year," I said. Then again, I did have time to think about it - I had time and I only woke up not too long ago. "I need to put a little bit of thought into it."

"You should be a fairy!" suggested Elle, her smile so wide and beaming in excitement.

Penelope made a disgusted sound. "Ew! No! She should be a pirate!"

"Pirates are for boys, Pen!"

"Fairies are for wussies, El!"

"Girls," said Riley warningly, her brow arched dangerously again; the girls immediately recoiled. "What did I say?"

"Be nice," they murmured simultaneously in a monotone voice.

"That's right," Riley said. "So I better not hear you two act bad to each other."

I had to bite the inside of my cheek to stop my impressed smile at Riley's maternal instincts in the act. It is going to take a while for me to get used to seeing this side of her. I wonder if this is how Topanga looked like when Riley came into the picture and if everyone who knew her for a long time have struggled to not giggle whenever she acted like the way Riley did.

Before I could respond to any of them, there was another knock thump against the door and a husky, rather enticing voice of a man was heard from the other side.

"Honey? I came back with the other stuff," he announced. "Do you think you could help me serve everything?"

"Be right there!" Riley called back before turning to me with a crooked grin. "How do you feel about having some of our famous family chicken pot-pie? He even brought some homemade ice cream and some coke."

At the sound of their mother mentioning the most favored dessert in their childhood, the twins shot up on their feet and raced out of the bathroom, cheering, "ICE CREAM!"

"I'd be an idiot for not taking the offer," I chuckled, staring after the girls incredulously. "Just give me a few minutes and I'll be out."

"Okay, Peaches."

Riley pushed herself onto her feet, careful to not slip over the somewhat damp floor, and stretched out her arms, slightly arching her back. She then gave me a quick kiss on the head and a smile, one that held all the encouragement she reserved for me, before she turned to leave the bathroom after the girls, closing the door behind her.

Once I heard the sound of silverware clinking, I reached into the water to twist the cork open, letting all the water of the tub sink into the drainage pipes, as I climbed out and reached for the towel on the rake. I toweled myself dry before I dressed up in the jeans and simple t-shirt. I freed my hair from the jumbling mess of a bun and shook my head to let my waves fall over my shoulders.

I took the heap of clothes from the toilet in my arms and left the bathroom. I stopped in an abrupt halt at what I see happening before me; while holding the bin of the pot pie, Evan to the small table in the corner of the room and leaned over to place the bin in the middle of the hungered girls, who quickly scarfed it down at a rapid speed. The twins were sitting on the chairs beside the bed, with napkins on their laps, kicking their legs loosely, and digging into a small bowl of vanilla ice cream they just scooped up.

Penelope momentarily looked up from her plate (if you could call it a plate, it looked more like a serving platter) as I entered. She smiled slightly before she bends over her food and consumed it like a wild animal. Well, I think it is safe to say that she eats like me at her age.

Evan gave Riley a light nudge when she reached to give him a kiss on the cheek and she glanced at me, her face suddenly burning bright. I stayed where I stood as Riley got up to walk up to me with Evan following her trail closely and my eyes fell down to their gripping hands, noting that they both sharing matching gold bands on their ring fingers. I smiled at her. She really did love this guy. And he must really love her if he is willing to take the role of an unofficial husband to her until I came back and really marry her afterwards.

"Maya," Riley started slowly, obviously trying to not stumble over her words, and she looked up at the man of her life with an adoring smile as she ran her fingers over his surprisingly well-defined arm. "This is my husband...er, well, soon-to-be-husband...um, h-he's my husband but n-not officially…"

I chuckled. "I get the idea, sweetie."

Riley smiled beautifully then leaned against Evan's side and hid her face in his chest, her hair falling over like a curtain, as he wrapped an arm around her petite frame. How was she able to still have a wonderful figure after giving birth to twins?

Evan held a large hand to me. "Hi, Maya, it's nice to meet you again."

"You remember me?" I asked as we shook hands.

"I never forgot you," he said casually, slipping his hand out of mine. "You or everybody else. You guys left one heck of a mark that time at the ski lodge. Plus, Riley couldn't stop mentioning you in almost every conversation we have."

"I have that effect on people," I grinned slyly. "I can be unforgettable."

"Yeah, you do," he chuckled.

I decided to stop beating around the bush. "So...you and Riley, huh? I'm not gonna sugarcoat, I never thought I'd see this happen."

"Neither did I," he admitted without hesitation, taking me aback. He was quite the agreeable fellow. "But I guess the world has a weird way of working, doesn't it?"

"Oh, you have no idea," I said sardonically. I could see Riley peeking at me through the gaps of her hair. I crossed my arms. "I hope you're treating her like she's a gem. I better not get a call in the middle of the night with her crying her eyes out because of you or I swear I will hunt you down, Fishel."

"Oh my God," muttered Riley.

"I can guarantee you that I will never treat Riley any less than she deserves - you have my word," Evan said with a true honest smile. "And if I do then you can hit me with a bat or hit me where the sun won't shine again."

"I'll hold that offer against you."

I narrowed my eyes at him. He is trying to give me a good first impression of him, maybe even trying a little too hard to my liking. I know he is a nice guy but that is what has me skeptical. It isn't wrong of Riley to be involved with a great guy because she did date Lucas throughout high school but I did know him personally and this Evan guy was a complete stranger to me. Indeed, he is one of the reasons why the triangle is over but I still didn't know a thing about him.

"So what do you do for a living?" I asked.

"I'm a chef," he answered quickly. "I own a five-star restaurant on 93 Main Street."

I raised a brow. "So you cooked the food?"

"Yeah, it's actually a recipe I made that helped me get the restaurant and is popular in demand. The ice cream is something I learned from my mother."

"How'd you go from sherpa to chef?"

"Well, it was like a hidden passion I had whenever I was in a kitchen. I thought of it as a backup plan for a career in case being a sherpa didn't work out as planned. It was manageable but being a chef isn't so bad either," he explained. He instinctively held Riley closer, making her mouth to tug into a big smile. "I went back to college to study culinary and I had a couple of lean years with a job as a dishwasher until I was able to start up my own business. It wasn't easy but I was doable."

"I see. Well…"

I couldn't really find anything else to say. This guy seem to have all the right answers like he has been practicing for this particular moment throughout the years. He probably has for all I know. But I wasn't going to accept him entirely just yet. I needed to see myself how he truly does act around Riley and the girls. He seemed financially secure enough to pamper his children, he was well-educated, trained right with her manners, and looked fit in health. Still, I'm not convinced.

Except, I do owe him for one thing. I will give him credit for that one thing.

"Thank you," I murmured. "For taking care of Riley while I was...gone."

"It was my pleasure. Just glad to have you back for her."

"Auntie!" Penelope called out, breaking the tension in the room, while pulling up a chair between her and her sister. "Come eat with us!"

"This is for you!" Elle said, pointing at the plate of untouched food, although, she looked like she was resisting the urge to devour it herself.

"Can I have some of the chicken?" pleaded Penelope.

I smiled and approached them at the table to accept the offered chair. Evan and Riley followed soon later on after they shared a few whispered words to each other. Aside the twins bickering over each other across the table and Riley serving them second helpings, they were mostly busy eating. Subconsciously poking my food, I watched them, feeling a bit small in the little space I'm cramped in. Penelope's snide remarks towards Elle, Riley constantly trying to control their behavior, and Evan trying to make a conversation with me out of politeness made me smiled in amusement. I licked on my spoonful of melting ice cream as I waited for everyone to finish.

Everyone was full of stories to be told to me and included me in plans for upcoming weekends. Elle was as animated as her mother, who put on a great deal of trust in the weatherman that it would be a sunny few days. Apparently it was an annual family beach trip they like to take once a month with their grandparents and Riley wanted me to come to the next one after I was discharged so that I could be able to bond with the twins, who were as agreeable with the idea as they talked to me about all the activities they'd love to do with me.

I learned a little bit of Evan in the meantime. He told me he was closest to his late grandfather and he'd visit his old antique shop with his godfather, Jasper. His grandfather used to do the same career that Farkle is in, traveling around the world only looking for Egyptian artifacts and others from warriors in the B.C era. I, being the blunt person I am, was easily dozed off and my head almost tipped back.

Even Penelope was bored about it; she quickly intercepted the conversation and curved it into a more entertaining topic of a hilarious story that happened in the school yard earlier that day. Elle was quick to go along with it and keep the ball rolling.

It was bizarre to see the relationship between Evan and Riley in motion. Despite the abnormality of their personality mixture, and their disagreements on certain things, it would take them only a few minutes to come back together. It was like Riley's barrier of lacking communication crumbles down with Evan. Before, during her relationship with Lucas, she was hardly able to avoid of moment of awkward silence with odd gazes and crooked smiles because she could not find that many stuff to talk about with the cowboy, but with Evan, it seems endless.

Yet they weren't the perfect match and they don't seem to complain about it. Watching them and listening to them was lovely. They were accepting of their different interests. They were deadly attracted to each other. Nothing could seem to stand between them.

Elle and Penelope are a complex duo. I know that some opposites aren't compatible but these two seem to be able repel and draw into each other at the same time. I can never know if the insults they toss at each other are just an inside joke or if they were in the middle of a squabble. Though, they did not seem to be in one. Yet.

After serving four rounds of pot pie, the bin was finally emptied and I was full after my third plate. Evan collected all the paper plates to toss them in the trash and the packed the plastic bowls in the small bin. Riley held Penelope in her arms, rocking her to the sides while humming a light melody, as the small brunette lightly snored in her sleep. I sat on my bed, watching her, with Elle sitting next to me and nodding her head to the sides to the rhythm of Riley's lullaby.

It was all very peaceful. Or it was until Elle started to ask me one question after another. And I don't know why in the world I continued to answer them.

"What's your favorite music?" she asked.

"Indie rock."

"What's that?"

"A type of music."

"How do rocks make music?"

"They don't. Rock is a type of music. Not the rocks you see on the ground hitting each other."

"What do you like?"

"Depends what you mean 'what I like'."

"Favorite game?"

"Poker."

"What's that?"

"A card game."

"I wanna play!"

"You can't. It's a grown-ups game."

"What's your favorite show?"

"Full House."

"What's it about?"

"Family."

"Like me and my mommy and daddy and Pen?"

"Yes. But funnier."

"What do you do?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you work with my mommy?"

"No."

"What do you do?"

I hesitated to respond then let out a sigh. "I...paint. I'm an artist."

"One time, I painted an orange monkey at school in finger painting class and Ms. Wong liked it alot and put it on the board," she stated cheerfully with a beaming smile, acting like it was the most casual thing to talk about in the world.

I arched a brow. This girl was definitely a new generation of Riley Matthews. Finger painting an orange monkey and a ceaseless curiosity about the works of the universe in one person she barely knows. She is going to be a lot of work, probably more than Riley was at her age.

"That's...nice," I said lamely.

The smile never leaving her face, she hopped around to face me entirely. "Do you like being my aunt?"

"So far, I guess."

"Do you like games?"

"What kind of games are we talking about?"

"Park games."

"I like Hide-and-Seek."

"Why?"

"Because I can hide well and the person seeking me can't find me."

"Sounds like fun!"

I chuckled. "I guess so."

She gave me a toothless smile. "I like you."

"Why?" I was bewildered. "You barely know me, Elle."

"I just do," she said. "You're cool and you're my mommy's friend. And you're nice and pretty."

I couldn't believe it when I say that I was actually a little flustered by a four-year-old's compliments and absurd honesty. She was staring at me directly with those youthful eyes and and unshameful smile, showing me that she was sincere about her words, that she was comfortable with what she says towards me because she truly means it, and it made a warm sensation ignite in my chest.

"I...like you too, Elle," I mumbled.

"Yay!" she squealed excitedly as she hopped onto me, her short arms latched onto my shoulders like an anchor, the force causing me to tip back into the pillow, and she giggled in delight in my torso with pink cheeks.

Evan turned to us and chuckled amusingly. "Sorry about that. She tends to let her emotions get to her."

"It's fine," I said, leaning up against my elbows while watching the lovable brunette snuggle into my chest. "I grew up with Riley so this is nothing new to me."

"Hey!" Riley gasped in mock hurt as she turned to us with an appalled expression, her hair swishing along with her whirl. "I wasn't _that_ bad!"

I pointed at a random spot behind her. "Bird."

An immediate smile stretched across her face, her eyes brightened up more than the sunlight shining into the room, and she quickly turned again to the spot I pointed at with an excited gasp. It was less than a minute that she remembered the old trick and she faced me again with her adorable 'angry' face.

"Not nice," she said sourly, though, I could hear the twinge of embarrassment in her voice.

"Is that still your angry face?" I asked humorously.

"Stop trying to make me laugh," she whined. "I'm trying to be mad at you."

I snorted. "Good luck with that."

An unexpected knock was heard from the door, startling me out of my playful demeanor, and Evan stood from the chair he had been sitting on to answer the door. I held my breath, not knowing why. It was this twisting feeling in my gut that has my anxiety reach to newer heights and I could feel goosebumps rise up on my skin in contrast to the kind body heat from my pseudo niece.

When Evan pulled the door open, I felt tears work free at the sight of who practically spilled into the room. He looked exhausted and completely worn out; his hair was a small afro of gray curls, a light stubble, the corners of his mouth was strained with faded lines, there were permanent creases in the center of his forehead, and the crinkle in his eyes were natural. He was wearing framed glasses, making him seem more like the dork I'd tease him to be.

He stepped into the room and awkwardly shook hands with Evan as a young man followed him shortly, the sight of him making me gasp audibly clear. His hair was long, vibrant and straight, tied back in a loose ponytail, with a neatly trimmed facial hair around his square jaw, and he was surprisingly muscular. He looked nothing like the little boy I remembered. He was a complete stranger. And when he greeted his brother-in-law and his nieces, his voice hurt my heart a little because it did not sound new nor smooth. It was old and rough. He was a grown man now - he was no longer that little boy who loved Mister Googly.

"Auggie?" I asked.

He stopped talking to Elle momentarily and his head slowly rose up, his eyes instantly connecting with mines, and the moment seem to last forever as we stared at each other in utter silence. I carefully slid off the bed and walked up to him in exaggerated slowness, taking my time to absorb in the sight of this newly grown man I used to berate a lot years ago and still loved tenderly like he was my own little brother. He seem to be doing the same.

"You…"

Words failed him yet his mouth continued to open and close. Coming from behind him, his father held the same face as Auggie, only his eyes were glassy and shining too brightly as he took a couple of steady breaths to keep his composure. I was not sure how I was managing. I felt like I was going to faint at any moment.

"Maya?" His voice, deeper than usual and scratchy, sounded like a child's and the tears I didn't know had formed in my eyes came out hot. They streamed down my face, each a stab in my heart at what my near-death had done to these two amazing men in my life and the joy of seeing how much they have evolved through the years I have been forced to miss.

"You're really...alive?" asked Auggie.

I didn't think twice; I threw myself at Matthews as he began to reach for me, the hope on his face engulfing me. My body collided with his and I was soon trapped between two, their arms tied so tight around each other, suffocating me, as I held onto the first father figure of my life like the lifeline he has been since day one and let myself be consumed in the familiar comfort of their joint embrace while I buried my face in his chest. I gulped in a huge breath and even amid the fumes of a grandfather and a college man - Matthews still smelled like lemon and Auggie still held the scent of genuine love.

Matthews still smelled like a father and Auggie still smelled like a brother.

I don't know how long we stood there in the middle of the room, with Riley and her family watching us from the corner, holding onto each other, but I eventually realized that he had slumped to the floor on our knees. The boys seem to notice this too as they pulled back from me, and I laughed at how ridiculously dramatic we look with our stuffy noses and cheeks moists from our tears on the ground.

Matthews, with shaky hands, cupped my cheeks in his palms as his eyes roamed over my face, trying to take in everything about me as if he was trying to comprehend I am really here. I raised my hands to hold him by his wrist to ease down the trembling of his fingers and rubbed my thumbs over the back of his hands. The shivering slowly ceased.

"I don't know how it was possible and I don't care at the moment," he said fiercely. "I'm just so happy to see you're alive."

Weight of Auggie's head fell on my shoulder as he buried his face in my back and wrapped his arms around my waist, his tears drenching over my shirt.

"W-will you...stay?" he asked hopefully.

I had to bite on my tongue to hold back the whimper threatening to escape from the back of my throat. He sounded so scared and unsure. I ran my fingers through his hair while burying my face in it and nodded against his scalp.

"I'm staying," I told him. "I'm staying for good. I promise, Auggie."

He burst out into a sobbing mess, the noises heart-wrenching, and also he laughed freely with an elation so powerful that I could help but smile.

This was the little boy I remembered. This is the one I wanted to see when I wake up. He may not look like that little boy but he was vulnerable and emotionally open like he used to be.

And that was enough for me.

They are both enough for me.

* * *

 **Please Review!**


	8. Chapter Seven: Only Human

**A/N:** Hey guys! I want to apologize for taking in so long with this chapter. There were some complications on the way and it kind of delayed me uploading this. I hope you don't think I gave up on this story - I promise I didn't.

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I feel like some of you were really anxious for this one and I was really excited to share it with you.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own GMW, the character, the locations, the quotes or songs mentioned. But I do own the plot.

* * *

 _Take a look in the mirror_

 _And what do you see_

 _Do you see it clearer_

 _Or are you deceived_

 _In what you believe_

 _'Cause I'm only human after all_

 _You're only human after all_

 _Don't put the blame on me_

 _Don't put your blame on me_

 _-_ Human; Rag'n'Bone Man

* * *

 _"My first world is humanity. My second world is humanism. And, I live in the third world being merely a human."_

― Santosh Kalwar

* * *

 **Chapter Seven: Only Human**

I look like a tourist in their first time in New York.

It actually did feel like the first time to me.

I lived off in New York my whole life and I've known the areas like the back of my hand but I never visited them. So after they ran a couple of extra tests on me for cautious reasons, they had discharged me from the hospital and decided to take me to Riley's home to catch up with them. But I was awestruck to learn that Riley's home was located in the Upper East Side of New York - or as I like to call it 'the riches' where world's trends are worshipped, Hollywood gossip is the buzz around the streets, and every housewife carries a furry little dog in their handbag - at least, that's what I've been told.

The place was foreign to me. The buildings were tall, polished glasses, the apartments looked like like those mansions from those exclusive house magazines I saw in the hospital lobby, the people looked model walking on a runway with a fancy strut (of course I spotted a few with a small dog), the cars were the most popular muscle car models - I find relief to see that Riley didn't fall in that routine with her Prius - and the gardens spotted in the balconies were blooming out in bright colors.

This is not my scene.

I'm used to seeing red brick apartment buildings, underground coffee shops, small shows of buckets being played like drums in the subway tunnel, big dogs sitting in front of convenient stores of their owner's, people wearing casual clothes in their own style, and sidewalks crowded with a flow of people. People knew people by histories of their grandparents with their great-grandparents, not by buying the newest thing worn or created by a celebrity. That was more of my comfort zone in reality unlike this sunshiney place of plastics and copies.

I couldn't really picture Riley living in this life. She used to be fascinated of the idea of a fairytale and unicorns throwing up rainbows when she was younger but she was never naive enough to try to live it out. So it was very odd to see her go down their path of a world living off in the same color.

We were the only ones in the Prius. Evan had taken out the car seats for the twins and strapped them in his car, stating that we would like to have our more private conversations on the drive here. He was sincere about it. He was currently trailing behind us with Cory following him as well in his old 2008 Chevy with Auggie.

I still couldn't believe that grown man I saw today was really the little boy I used to scare by chasing after him, threatening to personally maim him, and would wake up both Riley and I in the mornings after our sleepovers just to make us watch an episode of Mr. Googly. Now he is taller, his voice is deeper, less whiny and more tolerable, more mature and aware of the wrongs in the world, and is already studying in college. He even has a girlfriend and that girl was his childhood friend, Ava (in all honesty that was obvious in retrospect).

It was mind-boggling.

I distracted myself from my thoughts by going through the pictures on Riley's laptop, watching the lives of the people I knew flash across the screen, feeling a bit left out to see everybody celebrate their milestones together without me. To see the drastic change in every single one of them was both tragic and splendid. From Riley's college graduation to the birth of the twins, from Farkle's internship to his first expedition, from Smackle's first day as a university professor to accepting a Nobel Prize from another famous scientist (about time if you ask me), from Zay holding Jeremiah for the first time to his first broadway show, from Lucas' departure to his first week of training.

I stayed stuck on the last picture of him, the last time Lucas was seen ever. It was so bizarre to see him wearing the custom military training outfit yet it wasn't so hard to picture him like this. He looked tired, obviously from brutal exercises, smudged with dirt and ashes, hair ruffled and covered in mud, and a few scratches on his arms or face, but he was smiling with bright pride that could leave me blind. The picture wasn't exactly HD - probably a screenshot from his last video call - but I could feel the self-confidence oozing out of him from that smile.

I wonder where Lucas is now. I want to know how he was, what he does, how much he's changed, and if he's happy. Is he still that same Moral Compass who thinks he can contain me? Or has traces of him gone after the war? I needed to know. I am barely able to swallow down the fact that my best friend, my sister, is on the path to marriage and already has children or that the little genius I admired for his intelligence is now out in the world searching for its lost treasures or the girl who had autism seems to be able to express herself easier since she is now a professor or the boy who held the realistic perspective among the group and the greatest sense of humor to make one laugh into unconsciousness is now a broadway director and a single father.

It was a tough pill to swallow but I'm managing. I just need one thing in my life that hasn't changed.

The screen flashes another picture and I paused on it as a pang of pain stabs me in the heart. It was of Josh and his fiancee. More specifically, the day Josh proposed. He looked elated. He was standing behind the woman with his arms stretched out and his tongue sticking out with a wide smile while his fiancee was beaming brightly and pointing at her hand that held the gorgeous ring. I could see the love she holds for him reflecting off her eyes, easier than her smile, and her eyes were glassy with unshed tears.

My throat closed up a little. That should be me. I closed the laptop and shoved it back in Riley's bag then moved it to the backseat before I turned my gaze to the world blurring past us. I could feel Riley's eyes burning a hole on the side of my head but I didn't look at her. I don't want her to see the open sorrow in my eyes.

"He missed you, you know," she started; I still didn't move. "I'm pretty sure he still does."

I grunted, not really trusting my voice at this point.

"He was distraught when he found out you were caught up in the attack and he cut his trip to Philadelphia short as soon as he got the call," she continued. "It took us all a while to calm him down - my dad and Uncle Shawn practically dragged him out of the hospital because he was causing to much noise and the staff was threatening to have security escort him out by force if he didn't quiet down - I honestly thought it was a bit unnecessary but I'd rather have my father or his best friend use brute force on him than a couple of strangers who didn't care about Uncle Josh."

Riley slowed slightly and curved to a left turn. I kept my eyes on the road - I thought I saw a man picking up some dog duty with his own hand but thankfully I saw in a better angle that he had a doggy bag.

"He wasn't himself anymore," she sighed. "He wasn't that confident, wise, and collected uncle I've known my whole life - he was so deep in depression that it worried my dad and he had Josh move in my old room to keep an eye on him. He removed all the pictures I had of you from the mirrors and boards in the meantime. We had to force-feed him because he wasn't eating - he had to be pulled out of the room to make sure he wasn't too deep in his thoughts - he needed help to maintain his hygiene - he was everything he wasn't, Maya. The only time when he would willingly want to leave the house is only to visit you."

I swallowed silently. Listening to the story of how the guy I loved was being emotionally tortured by my near death was a stab to my heart. To hear he had lost himself over me did not make me feel better - it made me feel horrible to know he let himself go when he doesn't deserve to go through such a time.

"We tried to get him back on track with the rest of us when we decided that you wanted the best for us," she kept on. "But what Uncle Josh really needed was a good cry. One day when he and I decided to visit you together, he talked to me; he told me everything you two were planning to do - where you wanted to go - how you wanted to live - what you wanted to work - and the way he said it was so heartbreaking because it was so beautiful. I don't think I ever heard him speak in such a way. Before we know it, we were talking about the little things about you we loved to the big things you do that we admire and soon we were crying together. I needed to hold onto Uncle Josh that time because I realized he held on so much towards you and he was finally letting it out."

I could feel her glancing at me, probably trying to gauge a reaction out of me. I was actually trying to stay neutral but listening to her speak about Josh was slowly breaking down the dam of the flood I'm struggling to hold back.

"Give it like a week, two tops, Uncle Josh started to try to build himself back together. He still visited you but he tried to keep everything in his life together in case you woke up at some point and worked a couple of odd jobs here and there, paying a small portion of rent for my dad while he stayed at their place, kept in contact with me while I was away to China, go to some quick trips to my grandparents to give him updates on you, go out on a day with dad and Uncle Eric, and even spent time together with your parents. He did a lot to fill in any silence he didn't use on you. He told me you wouldn't want him to wallow away in self-pity or something in between those lines - he was half asleep when he told me that."

I smiled slightly. Josh was right about that. I wouldn't want him to put himself down for anything. Not even for me.

"Eventually he got back on track with the rest of us," said Riley in a more uplifted tone. "He got a steady job - he got his own place - and he'd visit grandma and grandpa occasionally on the weekends every three weeks. He'd visit you after work, on his day offs, and on the holidays then he'd spend it with my family before he went back to Philadelphia again. It became a routine for him to live in. But then he…"

Riley had stopped altogether and swallowed hard. I waited patiently but never turned to her, although, I did glance at her from the corner of my eye.

"...he grew a bit depressed a few years after the incident," she continued. "Dad was worried that Uncle Josh would end up in the hole he tried so hard to climb out of so he rearranged him to stay over at my grandparents for the summer so he could take some time in himself with his old high school friends, old hangout spots, and just spend time together with the family. Uncle Eric and Aunt Morgan were planning to head home to visit either way so that helped out Uncle Josh a lot more too. He'd call me to hear about you, of course, and it hurt to tell him the same thing every time. Then eventually he stopped calling altogether, and that was only a couple of years after I came back from China."

"Eight years in…" I murmured.

"Yeah…" she trailed off.

"Who's the girl?"

"Her name is Haleigh. She's a really nice girl."

Riley took another turn; I saw an elderly couple pass by, both wearing wedding bands, and had their arms linked together. Their laugh lines were shown in their withered faces. They seem more like a couple from an old British film from the early 1900's.

"How'd they meet?" I asked.

"I don't really have full detail on how their relationship started - all I know is that she was one of his clients after she had gotten in a small accident in her job and he spent weeks helping her as her chiropractor. I guess during the time they got to know each other often and eventually he asked her out."

"You think _he_ asked her out?"

"Most likely - it seem like something Uncle Josh would do."

I hummed and nodded. I wasn't sure how I feel about all of this. I didn't really want to talk about Josh's relationship - or is it engagement? - with another woman but the curious part of me was demanding to be answered and now I'm experiencing a numbing sensation in the pit of my stomach. I wasn't sure what it meant. Then I felt a hand land on my knee and I glance at Riley to see her frowning heavily.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I know it's a lot for you to take in."

I pursed my lips. "I'm okay," I lied; I don't know if I am. Riley looked unconvinced.

"You don't have to lie," she said. "I know you still have feelings for my uncle, Maya, and that's okay. I wasn't expecting you to wake up and suddenly be over him like you guys weren't getting serious."

I sighed. I could never keep anything hidden from her. It'd be a miracle if I could. I place my hand on top of hers then turned it to entwine our fingers together and gave it a light squeeze. I smiled slightly when I felt her return the pressure, maybe harder.

"You're right," I said. "I'm not okay...I don't know how I feel about all of this. At first, I feel hurt when I saw he got engaged and looks happy without me. But now that you told me all of this, I don't know what I should feel now. Happy? Sad? It's sort of confusing."

"It's alright to be," she reassured. "Just know I'm here with you."

My smile became real. "I know you are." I rub my thumb over the silver ring wrapped around her middle finger. "You're my safe place after all."

"And you're mine."

Riley looked at me briefly to smile before turning back on the road. I could feel the pressure in my stomach lighten up a little and I knew that I was being embraced by the comforts of her presence, the welcome of her arms of solitude, protected by her hands of genuine care, because that is what makes Riley my safe place.

The world scares me because it reminds me they could make them anything come true and make me lose Riley. But Riley makes me forget of my nightmares and fears because she reminds me that they aren't true. And I know Riley will be the one who helps me not make this sensation of confusion real anymore.

* * *

The apartment building Riley reached in front of was everything I did and did not expect. It was a simple beige-colored brick building with faded white window sills and a metal fence surrounding the entrance Next to it was a building completely bare of windows aside from a large door, which I could safely assume is the way into the garage. There was a nice tree looming in front, giving a good shade to the entrance. It wasn't only that but the place looked graceful, giving off a welcoming and peaceful vibe, and it was three stories taller than the main building, and seems to be well proportioned.

"Wow."

Riley smiled. "You like it?"

My mouth felt dry. "It's...different. New York changed a lot, hasn't it?"

"Not really. I actually designed this when Evan and I were looking for a new place to move into after we learned I was pregnant. I was a writer at the time so I was making a decent amount of money and Evan was a dishwasher by then. We were able to pull in enough money to make our dream home happen and it only took six months to get it ready."

"So you bought...your own property?"

"Yes."

Riley then pulled out a small beeper from the console box and pressed on the OPEN button. The door slid open and she slowly drove inside the building. She glanced up at her rearview mirror after a minute passed and then she pressed on the CLOSE button on the beeper before she placed it back in the console box. I looked around the inside of the garage; it wasn't large but it held a lot of room for us to roam around and the only ones in sight are the three cars. Riley parked in the space nearest to the door and shuts the engine.

I climb out of the car as Riley reaches for her bag in the backseat. I look over at the others to see Evan unbuckling the twins from their car seats and Auggie stepping out of Cory's car. He gave me a slight smile, which I returned. Things seem a bit off between us - I was certain it was because I should have been dead and he felt like he was seeing the ghost of his past. Riley later came out of her car the same time Evan lowered Penelope to the ground and she locked her car.

Penelope approached me. I raised a quizzical brow at her.

"What?"

She didn't say anything; she just took my hand like it was the most natural thing in the world and it startled me a little bit because I could feel how small her hands felt wrapped around my fingers. It was weird. I've held Auggie's hand before when he was little but this still felt abnormal to me to have Penelope's hand in mine. I could feel my fingers shaking. It could be because my body forgot what it was like to hold a toddler's hand.

Nevertheless, my lips twitched. "You're getting used to having me as your aunt, kiddo?"

Penelope cocked her head to the side. "Maybe."

I curled my fingers, engulfing her tiny hand. "Well, I still got some work."

Doors slammed shut as Evan and Cory locked their cars and went up to us.

"Seems like someone's fond of you," said Cory with a pout. "It took her three months after she was born to like me."

"Guess I'm more likeable than you," I grinned. His pout increased.

Then Elle let go of her father's pant leg and walked up to Cory's side, tugging on the hem of his shirt. "I like you, grandpa."

Cory's' face instantly lit up. "And I wuv chu, my special little girl," he said in a baby voice as he lifted Elle up in his arms and formed a funny face that made her giggle hilariously, snorting a little.

"Dorks," I heard Penelope mutter.

"Tell me about it."

Evan wrapped an arm around Riley's waist and held her close. Cory noticed and scowled not-so-subtly while rolling his eyes.

"How about we head inside so I could get dinner started," suggested Evan.

"Oh!" Penelope jumped up. "Uncle Auggie, can we play race games?"

"But I wanna play princess," whined Elle.

Auggie chuckled. "How about we play race games now and after dinner we play princess? Sound good?"

"Yeah!" cheered Elle and Penelope simultaneously. Talk about twin telepathy.

Penelope lets go of my hand as Elle hops out of Cory's arms so they could both hold Auggie's hands and follow him inside the building. He seems to hang out a lot here since he has his own spare key. Riley and Evan went in afterwards but Cory stayed behind, looking at me intently with an unreadable expression on his face. I smoothed my hair as I swallowed down the lump that was beginning to form in my throat.

"What's up, Matthews?" I asked.

"How are you holding up, Maya?" he responded, concern leaking from his voice. "Riley told me you've been surprisingly stable since you woke up."

I only shrugged and bit my lip. That seems to only make him more worried. He stepped closer to me until he was directly in front of me and stared down at me with those brown eyes full of the same divine trust I depended on for so many years. It amazes me that twelve years managed to change my appearance in a drastic manner but it still hasn't done a thing about my height. Unbelievable.

"Look, Maya," he began. "I know I used to be your teacher and I taught you a lot of lessons that helped you in life but I'm not going to pretend that I know what it's like to wake up from a coma. I can only imagine. But I do know that you tend to get overwhelmed when it comes to change and all of the things you learned are huge for you."

"It's not really a big deal," I answered. "Everyone is just grown up. Eventually it was going to happen - Riley having her own family - Auggie in college and with a girlfriend - and everybody else doing their own thing. Isn't that the way the world works?"

"You're right," he said. "That is how the world works."

"But?"

Cory sighed. "But you didn't get to be there as the world was in the works of your lives. You didn't get to be in the process of it all."

I smiled slightly at him. Even after twelve years have passed, even if during those years I could have woken up in an entirely different person, he still manages to see the wrongs about me that I or Riley could not find because he still observes me closely. I wonder if he knew when I was on my way to California for college that I felt I wasn't ready to say goodbye to the man who helped me grow, learn, love, and be appreciative.

"Does that mean you still have a lot to teach me?" I asked softly. His eyes soften at the hidden meaning behind my words.

"Do you feel like you still have a lot to learn?" he asked seriously.

"I do," I said with a watery smile. "Actually I think...I have so many things I need to understand that I don't know. I need you to teach me."

"Then tell me," he replied. "Tell me you're not okay. Let go of your act for one second, just to me, and maybe I can help you understand what you don't. I won't even tell Riley if it helps. Just please, don't pretend with me."

"I…" I paused, licking my lips, and glancing down at my feet for a second as I tried to gather my thoughts of everything I learned and saw. I can only gather up one thing. "I'm...conflicted. I don't know what I should feel exactly about all of this."

"What do you feel?"

"Happy," I answered instantly. Because I am. I am happy for how everyone's lives turned out, to see everyone managed to survive the cruelty of reality. "...proud...a little depressed...and angry." At this point, I could feel my eyes stinging. "Which sucks because I hate being angry. I shouldn't really have a reason to be angry but I am."

"Can you think of what makes you feel this way?"

"I don't even know where to begin," I sniffled. "I guess...everything? Dating back to how it started twelve years ago to what I learned a week ago. It's unsettling. I was just a girl who was about to take a flight to what could have been the first step of the start of my future and the next I'm waking up as a thirty-one year old woman who doesn't even…" I trailed off, taking in an uneasy breath. "It's a lot to take in."

"I can only imagine," he said solemnly. "But I can tell you that it's okay to feel like this. Nobody is telling that you're wrong for this."

"Then how come it feels wrong?" I questioned. "I should feel nothing but happiness and pride for everyone for getting their lives together but I feel angry and depressed. What does that make me, sir? A bad friend?"

He shook his head. "No, Maya. That doesn't make you a bad friend."

"It feels like it does."

"But it doesn't." He steps closer to me and held his arms open. I wordlessly walk into them and rested my head against his chest as he held me tight, rubbing his hand across my upper back while leaning his head against mine. "I don't mean to bring up old memories we never speak about again but do you remember that one New Years? The one when you were confused about feelings you didn't understand?"

I nodded. "Hard to forget about that one. What about it?"

"Remember what Topanga told you," he said. "It doesn't get any easier. That's why you have to stick close to the people you trust...so they could put you back together again."

"And they're still here aren't they?"

"They always are."

I frowned even though he couldn't see me. "Lucas left. Josh left. I know Farkle didn't leave - he loves me too much to do that. And Smackle always goes where he goes so I know she didn't leave either."

He let out a sigh. "Josh didn't leave, honey," he assured me. "A person who leaves is someone who wants no connection to another person ever again. Josh still asks about you. He called to ask about you two days before you woke up."

I sniffled. That actually made my chest alleviate a little, knowing that the guy I love still has me on his mind somehow, even if I'm not the girl who is in his heart anymore. That was one of the things about Josh that attracted me to him in the first place; we share the same ability to care for others to any extent despite whatever hole we're stuck in. He understood that about me. That is how he was able to help me figure out about my confused feelings feelings for Lucas back at the ski lodge years ago because he understood of my protective nature towards Riley.

"He loves you, sweetie," murmured Cory.

"And I love him too." I pull back a little bit to look at him but never enough to force his comforting arms off me or mine off him. "Does that mean Lucas doesn't…?"

His withered eyes soften in despair. "Honestly, Maya, I don't know that much about Lucas. He became a changed man after everything. I haven't heard a thing from him for a long time. But I don't think he left you - he dropped out of college and went into the Navy Seals after he heard what happened to you. War comes with a lot of prices to pay, Maya, and only God knows which one Lucas is paying."

"People change people." I smiled grimly. "Secret of life, right?"

"No." He shook his head, making me frown in confusion. "People only change people when it's for good. If people change for the worse it's because they changed themselves for themselves, not because they had someone to influence them to." He held my chin between his fingers and tilted my head up to stare at him directly since I moved my eyes down to his collarbone. "You didn't do anything that may have happened to Lucas - it was all his choice. Okay?"

I nodded despite my frown. "I just want them home."

"They'll come home, trust me."

"I do trust you," I said seriously. "You're the first man I ever trusted in my life."

My words seem to hit him in a way I didn't expect; he looked like he was trying so hard to not break down, like a little kid who had lost his puppy and he overflooded by the joy of finding his puppy again. Then he placed his hand on the back of my head and pulled me against his chest as he embraced me strongly, almost engulfing my small frame in his arms, nearly crushing me. I could hear him breathing deeply, shakily, and I could picture the look of anguish masked over his face with his eyes shut tightly to prevent a wall of relief tears from escaping.

"I thought we lost you, Maya," he whispered softly into my ear. "When the doctors called us in, we thought he was going to surprise us with you away on that bed and waiting for us with a huge smile on your face. But instead we see you still sleeping in the same way you were every day and they told us that the chances of your waking up weren't looking so well and that they were gonna have to pull the plug because your health was dropping." He tightened his hold. "We really thought you were dead."

At this point, I could hear his voice breaking and I could feel my shoulder become damp by his flowing tears. I bring my arms around his torso, tying my hands together behind his back, and fall into his hug as I allowed him to spill out all of his misery, his confusion, his desperation, his sorrow, and his heartbreak he had to fight against all these years to still have room in his heart for a speck of hope in my survival. He is finally letting out all that he kept bubbled up inside him to remain strong for the others, for himself, letting me be the one for him to be vulnerable to. Just like I am to him.

"Tough up, Matthews," I said softly, trying to lighten up the mood. "I thought I was suppose to be the one to cry on your shoulder."

He just continued to whimper into my shoulder and hair, probably not hearing a world I said. I untangle my hands and rubbed them over his hunched back.

"You know the thought of knowing I was so close to dying really hit me hard," I tried again. "For years, as long as I can remember, I felt...invincible whenever I was with you guys. The more you guys helped me grow, taught me more about faith, made me feel like I was worth more than I gave myself credit for because you guys taught - actually, showed me the value you saw in me, the same that Riley saw in me. I felt that all the great things you guys did, I could do them too, maybe even better, because you guys actually gave me purpose to put more effort in the things I was gifted in and try to overcome any obstacle to make where you believe I could, where you helped me believe I could get.

"You guys mean everything to me - your family - my family - my friends - you're my world. So knowing I was going to lose all of that, knowing I was no longer gonna be able to wake up to you guys again really struck me hard. I was going to lose all of that because a group of people wanted me dead along with others. Even though I was gonna be states away from you guys, I was still gonna be in contact with you. Skype calls, phone calls, occasional visits, holiday weekends, spring break - I planned to do all of that and that was gonna be taken away from me, from all of us, because of war.

"I don't want that. I don't ever want to be taken away from you guys or you taken away from me because you're everything I need. If I had died, I...I don't know. To this day I still don't know if I should believe there's a God and Heaven waiting for me in another life so I could rest or if it's just endless darkness. If there is another life for me then I would have been a guardian angel to every one of you like you to me, making sure you all made it to where you are today - I know that for sure. Seeing all of you have what you have now makes me so proud despite anything else I feel. I don't want to think that there's nothing waiting for me in the other side and it scares me to think I'll be left with nothing when I finally got everything I wanted in life.

"The doctor told me he believed there was another force, another type of power, that could give a person a chance to decide whether I want to live or die, and he thinks I needed a reminder why I want to keep on living. I'm not surprised I'm alive but I am surprised that it took me so long to make the choice to live." I inhaled deeply. "So I guess he was right. I do need to be reminded why I want to keep on living. I don't know why I would want to stop but being here with you all, seeing how you are now, is enough for me to stay alive. I'm really grateful for that."

He seem to calm down now. He slowly pulled back from me, revealing his face covered in a thousand rivers of tears, his eyes a bit bloodshot, sniffling loudly, and he held a tiny smile. I did something I never did before and raised my hands up to his face to gently wipe his tears away with my fingers. This is normally something he does for me, Riley, Auggie, and Topanga. It was like an unwritten rule that he should be the one to clean our faces whenever we had another reality check on the wrongs of the world or had gotten our hearts stabbed by disappointment.

"You have a really ugly crying face, sir," I grinned teasingly.

Rolling his slightly red eyes, he chuckled amusingly and used the sleeve of his shirt to clean the last of his tears then readjusted his framed glasses.

"Careful," he said. "I can still send you back to the streets where you came from, you waif."

I pouted. "You know, I did look up what that meant and I have to say I am highly offended by that. You're lucky I didn't know that back in high school or I would have called you out, a teacher, for degrading me, a student of yours, like that."

"Eh, you know I mean it by the heart," he said casually.

I knitted my brows. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"We'll see how things go," he replied playfully.

I give him a light shove with a pout, making him chortle in joy and I couldn't help but smile at the sound. It is a lot better than his broken whimpers. I wrap an arm around his torso and he does around my shoulder as we walked over to the slightly open door, both of us tittering under our breaths, a normal feat that the both of us share. I'm glad he stood behind to talk to me. However, I don't think it was actually meant to console me but for him to finally let go of the guilt and grief he's been hiding all these years - I think he needed me. I hope he knows he can always come to me like I did to him. I don't want him to hide again.

Once we reached the door, Cory went ahead to hold it open for me and I entered the building.

The inside of the home was more surprising. First of all, I found myself entering the kitchen; the area looked very bright, very open, and held a lot of room. The cabinets were painted a nice shade of brown, looking like they were handmade and painted in a steady process, the countertops were granite, smooth and clear of dust, while the refrigerator and stove were of polished steel. The floor was a clean travertine pattern. The back south-facing wall was an opening to the dining room where I could see a large round table beneath of what seems like a crystal chandelier. On the east-side of the room was a staircase leading upstairs where I can hear a series of faint shouts and cheers.

But then I was blinking in disbelief when I saw my own mother standing by the stove, wearing a purple frilly apron, her hair pinned up in a messy ponytail, and skillfully tossing stir-fry contents in the skillet in the air, causing them to momentarily catch on fire from the flying oil.

"Mom?"

"Hey baby girl," she said over the sound of sizzling coming from the skillet.

"You're...cooking," I noted lamely. Back then, before Shawn came into our lives, my mom and I had fended off in endless supplies of food from the Nighthawk Diner, complementary to Cher Louis, who understood our living conditions, and I was too lazy to bother to learn to cook, mostly because I knew I'd be fed by the Matthews. Later on, Shawn, from all of his travels, would prepare dinner for us, showering us with all kinds of flavors and taste that leave our mouths watering for seconds and thirds.

In other words, it was a shock to me to see my mother actually cooking.

"Just a little something I picked up over the years," mom said. She was now cutting up vegetables and sprinkling spices into a steaming pot. I never seen this side of of her before, and I had to admit that it was quite stunning. "I hope you have a big appetite as the others because I'm making a big meal tonight - everyone's favorites."

Cory's eyes lit up. "Ooh, is there chicken? The one with all the seasoning and stuffing?"

"Even better." Mom opened the oven, revealing a large turkey lathered in sauce, dark, and crispy. "Go big or go home, right?" She closed the oven and went back to cutting up the vegetables. "Do you think you could set up the table? Riley wanted to do it but she had to separate the twins again."

"Sure."

As Cory went over to the cabinets to pull out the plates and the utensils from the drawers, I walked over to my mother whilst she dumped the chopped vegetables in the pot and stirred.

"That looks edible," I said.

"Don't turn down my cooking just yet," she answered with a chipper smile.

"Since when do you cook?"

"Oh, sometime around Shawn's photography career skyrocketed and I went back to school," she said. "Our schedules would be like two different time zones so I bought myself a cookbook and practiced a couple of recipes. I even searched up other kinds just to spice things up."

I smiled. "Good for you, mom."

"I still have the cookbook if you want it," she remarked. Then her eyes dimmed. "Also, I'm sorry I wasn't there to pick you up from the hospital. I got held up with a client who got their schedule mixed up and missed their interview so I had to talk to the host to reschedule it."

"That's okay," I said. I moved behind her then wrapped my arms around her, linking my hands over her stomach, and rest my cheek against her back. I could feel her stiffen for a moment by the contact but she quickly relaxed as she breathed out a relieved sigh. I think she is still trying to process the fact that I'm here and I don't blame her - it's like touching the ghost from your past.

"I made some of your favorite," she croaked. "I added a pinch of garlic for a little more flavor."

Even though she doesn't see it, I smiled. Over the years, during summer vacations, I would go on a trip to Philadelphia with the Matthews and Amy Matthews, Riley's grandmother, would always smother me and Riley with all of the famous recipes and baked goods of Philadelphia. Not many of them I grown to love that much but I was deadly obsessed with stromboli, budino, tamales, and pho. She had spent years to perfect the dishes to her liking and then it became traditional to be made for holidays, birthdays, and vacations - she would do extra for me because she knows I'm the only one who will ever have a second plate.

"Thanks mom," I said softly. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

I wasn't the best cook of the century - I mean, I did cause my whole middle school to lose their insides because I messed with their lunch by adding multiple spices and seasoning because I thought it would give it more flavor - but I can be an exceptional help if I'm given the right instructions to preparing a meal.

Mom shook her head. "You don't have to do anything, baby girl. I'm sure Riley would want you to meet up with her and spend some times with the twins. You have loads of things to catch up on."

"She'll be there when dinner is ready," I retorted. "I can catch up with her later."

In reality, I just wanted to spend time with her. Being here, hugging her from behind, engulfed in this calm atmosphere with a mouth-watering aroma keeps me eased from the emotional rollercoaster I had at the hospital and on the ride here. It was always like this with me and my mom - at least after I learned the truth behind Kermit - whenever we were home alone. It is like a fresh need from any hectic adventure we'd go through a day.

"Well," she answered hesitantly. "Maybe you could help me set up one last thing for dinner. It's the twin's favorite."

"Just let me know what to do."

* * *

An hour later, I found myself helping preparing lasagna rolls. Cory had brought in a small radio from the attic for us to listen to different radio stations as we cooked, playing an old pop song, the volume somewhat low and the sound bringing me back to my senior year prom. I remember many things happened on that one night from me and the girls shocking the boys with a more beautiful side of us than they usually see on a daily basis - to Lucas and Charlie settling their differences about who should be with Riley - to having Shawn Mendes making a surprise appearance - to Zay asking to be my prom date since I had gone stag due to Josh needed to study for his finals and needed at work - to witnessing Farkle and Smackle say their first 'I love you's' to each other.

It was my last school dance ever and I enjoyed it very much. Normally I'd frown upon such social events because I don't like meeting new people or learning new names and I'd attend for the sake of Riley but it was my final night as a high school senior, as a child, and I needed a good memory I made on my own for once. Despite not being able to go with my then-boyfriend, Josh, it was tolerable for me to embrace it.

Mom was extremely chatty. She had a lot of stories she wanted to tell me throughout her career and I came to the conclusion that Hollywood is downright insane. She filled the void with movie premiere events she had been anticipating to watch, how hilarious her interviews with Jimmy Fallon always turn out to be especially with the small games he plays, about her travels with Shawn, and about the kids. I liked these moments when I didn't have to talk that much and an occasional grunt was good enough of a response to her.

I laughed at an amusing story my mother told me about the time she had dinner with Adam Sandler as I sprinkled a little of pepper and cheese on the ground beef before stirring it in the skillet. Beside me, my mother was stirring around the ingredients for the creme brulee, saying it was a family favorite.

I went to check the temperature of the oven, have already turned it on a few minutes ago to preheat, when the song ended and another one began to play. I can hear my mother messing with the radio and then the volume was turned up to an octave higher. I listened to it intently, realizing that the music sounded vaguely familiar. I turned to see mom was back at the bowl and was the contents into small cups.

"Hey, isn't that the one song?" I asked, smiling, as I went back to the lasagna rolls and started to add the ground beef in the small pasta slices, rolled it up, and plucked in a toothpick. I layered some sauce and more cheese on top then placed it on the baking dish before I continued to prepare another roll.

It was a captivating indie rock song. Oxford Comma by the Vampire Weekend - I recognize it in an instant. It gave a passive feel to the room, relaxing to the mind.

Mom nodded, her eyes sparkling. "Yep, it's the one when we went on that road trip before your junior year."

"God, that trip was a trainwreck," I chuckled. "Being cramped together in a stuffy RV and sharing one bathroom with five guys and small bunk beds. It was funny to see the guys struggle to not end up cuddling with each other but I never want to sleep next to Riley in a small bed ever again - the girl kicks in her sleep. Matthews wouldn't stop singing those stupid road trip songs and Shawn had to end up wrestling him to the ground so he could shut up. Zay wanted to see every little tourist spot we pass by, Farkle and Smackle keep on sprouting historical informations about the local landmarks we stop on - it was a huge mess. Not to mention, Matthews was so obsessed in keeping Lucas and Riley separated the entire trip there so I had to listen to Riley constantly rant about her father's overprotectiveness."

"But it was worth the drive," she remarked. "We had fun and made a great time. We even went back during the summer before your senior year."

I grinned. "It was fun." I had already finished with all the lasagna rolls and placed them on the baking tray so I went to put it in the oven the same time my mother had finished pouring the batter into the small cups. I held it open until she carried her trays inside the oven and shut it tightly. "I kinda miss that place. It was my first time in Arkansas - I never knew you came from a beautiful place, mom."

The infamous road trip of summer of 2018 was an eventful one. Ever since the fiasco with Anastasia Bourlangerie (aka Bobby Jo), my mother desired to take me to her home so I could learn more about my family on her side and had spoken with Shawn and the Matthews for a trip to her hometown. I was reluctant at first because I remembered the little show she had together with her friend but I didn't have a say in it because all the adults had agreed to go in the end. My compromise was to bring my friend to enjoy the tortures of a road trip with me.

The trip had already started horrible. One; we had gotten the smallest RV available with little space for a group of ten people. Two; nobody knew how to drive it so well. Three; someone made the mistake of mixing beans with our first dinner on the road and that gave Zay a bad case of diarrhea so the bathroom was a cautious zone. Sometimes we'd hit blind spots where the GPS signal would break and we'd have to use a map - by we, I meant the adults because they lived in an era where they actually learn this stuff voluntarily - but there would be arguments between the guys and women on who was reading the right direction.

Farkle and Smackle were on a riot whenever we pass by a landmark they read about and they would blow our ears off with unwanted history about said place. Then there was Cory always trying to make us sing some traveling songs he took the liberty to search up before the trip and Topanga having to always calm him down when he gets enthusiastic. And lastly there is his overprotectiveness about Lucas and Riley being too close for comfort, hearing him ranting about his daughter being too young to date, and resulting to hear Riley complaining to me about the whole situation while Lucas sulks.

But in the end, the trip turned out to be spectacular. The waterfalls were a splendid area that is coated with healthy trees with strong bark and leaves colored in pure green, spread overhead the lake like a canopy. The waters were a clear blue, showing the elegant shapes of rocks below the ripples of the fall and a light mist would surface from the flows leaking through the large boulders. Some animals would be seen coming from the bushes to drink the water at the banks as we swam through the lake or leap from the rocks. The sun would spill through the gaps of the leaves, giving the water a nice sparkle.

It was an amazing day and to be able to wake up another day to do the same as before only made the time better.

"It's alright," she shrugged. "I grew up there so it's not as magical as it once was to me before."

"I kinda miss that place," I said. "It would be cool to go back again."

"Maybe we can go back," she replied cheerfully. "Let's wait till Shawn gets back from tour and we'll see if we could arrange another trip. I'm sure he'll be up for it."

I smiled at the mentioning of my stepfather. Ever since I woke up, whenever my mother would come to visit me at the hospital, she'd FaceTime him in the appropriate time she knows he isn't on the clock, and we'd talk for hours until it was time for him to rest until the band's next show or the nurses would come to let my mother know that visiting hours were over. Shawn traded stories about his life with traveling with bands, about the struggles of sharing a tour bus with a large crew, how crazy the shows can be, the amazing cultures he learned from different countries, and how much it makes him miss home.

I felt like I got to know more about my stepfather again, that the man who helped picked the pieces of a broken daughter's fragile heart back together was no longer a stranger to me, but only a little. I still have a lot to learn about him again and I couldn't wait for him to come home so I could hop into his open arms like I used to whenever he returned from one of his many traveling jobs.

After my mother dried her hands with a dish towel, she went to the pantry and pulled out a bottle of wine from the rack then uncorked it with a pop.

"Could you get me two glasses from that cabinet, sweetie?" she asked kindly.

"This is so weird," I mumbled as I complied, pulling out two long-stemmed glasses from the cabinet, and held them firmly whilst my mother poured the ruby red liquid into them. "Riley being almost married and having kids - I can handle that. But knowing Riley owns liquor _and_ drinks it? It's just not possible for me. She wouldn't even dare take a sip of champagne for New Years even when her parents gave her permission to have a glass."

Mom smiled as she went to put the wine bottle back on the rack after she corked it. "You know how Riley can be when it comes to rules; the girl didn't even like going out past ten, remember?"

I grimaced, smiling sheepishly. "You're never gonna let that go, are you?"

"Would you let it go if your fourteen-year-old daughter admits she snuck out to a college party so late at night and other things she hid from you?" she retorted, raising a teasing brow.

I smirked. "I don't have a daughter."

"Oh, can't wait when you do."

I laughed at her sarcasm, shaking my head, while she smiled pleasantly, most likely thinking of the dreaded day when I go through what she went through with me. Then I stared at the ruby red liquid as my swirled in my glass, thinking about her words. Would I want a child of my own? I never thought of that - the idea of having my own little flesh and blood, a half of me, never crossed my mind because all I thought about was learning more about art in California and coming home with a master's degree. I shook my head and cleared my throat. I don't want to think about that now.

"I think this is our first drink together," I stated as my mother took a sip of her wine. "What is it?"

"Domaine Romanée Conti. 1991."

"Ooh, vintage and French," I said, impressed, as I lifted my glass. "À votre santé," I added before I took a tentative swallow of my wine and immediately shivers of delight took over me as the freshly aged flavored drink flowed down and into my system. I never drank before and I've heard that the first taste of alcohol would be bitter but surprisingly the wine was deliciously addictive.

"You good?" mom asked after a moment.

I nodded, absently running my tongue over my lips. "It's really good. I thought it'd be bitter but it's actually really sweet." I took another sip.

"Nothing better than aged wine," mom said. "But don't drink so much of it. Wine is actually really hard to measure and you could get drunk easily."

"Are you giving me my first drinking lecture?" I smirked.

"It was bound to happen," she sighed. "I should have given you the lecture a long time ago before you were off to college. Even if you said you wouldn't drink underage, I knew better - it's part of being a teenager leaving independent for the first time - I've been there."

I shook my head. "I don't think I would have either way, mom. I was never really much of a social person, let alone by drunken idiots, so I doubt I would have gone to the parties. And if I did, somehow, I don't think I would have touched any alcohol around me. Shawn made sure of that."

I set the glass down and wrapped my arms around my stomach, an old habit I used to do whenever I needed the sense of security. The thought of me fallen in intoxication and waking up to damages I won't remember doing is terrifying. I know my old classmates thought of me as the kind of girl who loved to go to parties and get drunk without a care in the world because of my old reputation as a rebellious delinquent but the thought of waking up with a hangover and consequences of my reckless waiting to be faced truly frightened me. I could handle doing foolish things when I'm sober but the latter is just plain stupid.

Mom smiled. "I have to thank your father for that. Shawn has only been your father for a couple of years and he's already done more than I have since you were born. I really need to catch up to him."

"You've done enough," I spoke honestly. "I was just an ungrateful little girl who didn't know what she had all along but you've done a lot for me. You're still doing it. There are mothers that would have given up to see their child wake up again from a coma, no matter how much they love them. They lose faith. But you didn't. And I'm lucky for that - thank you for not abandoning me even when it looked like I was done for."

Mom's smile turned tearful as she placed a hand on her chest, right above her heart. Then, without a word, she opened her arms; I surrendered to the gravitational pull from the unspoken invitation and rested my head on her shoulder as she buried her hand in my hair. I locked my arms behind her back and I released a soft breath. This is what it feels to have a piece of mind.

"Thank you," she murmured. "I know I try hard but sometimes it's nice to hear it."

"Anytime, mom."

I open my eyes (I don't remember closing them) and I was about to pull away when I saw a brown blur pass us, talking lowly. I step back from my mother as the sound of the garage door opened and I turned to see it close. I look at my mother with a raised brow, confused.

"What was that about?"

"I don't know. Must have been something important. Whenever Riley is on the phone, she's in full work-mode and it's nearly impossible to get her to shut it off. Must be something urgent from work."

A light beep came from the oven; the lasagna rolls and creme brulee were ready. Mom brought out the mittens from a drawer and went to open the oven. My mouth watered at the inciting scent of rich spaghetti sauce, seasoned ground beef, and baked sweetness spreading through the air, and watched as my mother placed it on the counter before removing the mittens.

"That smells so good," I moaned in appreciation, closing my eyes to focus more on the smell.

"Don't take a bite - it still needs a minute or two to cool off," she warned.

I stuck my tongue out at her before she turned and walked up the small staircase, probably to announce to the others that dinner was ready. I glanced at the meals; the pot, pans, skillets, and trays were all containing various dishes waiting to be devoured, and I couldn't wait to taste the first bite of my mother's home cooked meal. I went to put on the mittens my mother had on and opened the pot, immediately splashed by a wave of a ravishing aroma of boiled mixtures. It made the back of my neck stand up.

My ears perked when I heard many footsteps dashing down from the stairs, yells of excitement from the twins, Evan laughing heartily by their energetic antics, Cory being sarcastically hilarious, and Auggie speaking to my mother over the noise. I quickly closed the pot, knowing my mother will instantly think I am trying to sneak a bite, and I was nearly startled by the sound of the garage door opening again - I forgot Riley had went out there earlier.

"Hey, Riles, good thing you came back," I said playfully as the crowd flooded into the dining room; all except Cory, who was standing at the bottom of the stairs, smiling knowingly, to my confusion. "I was just about to eat -"

However, I cut myself short when I turned to the open door and felt all of my muscles tense up in surprise at the scene before me. It was a good thing I wasn't holding the lid of the pot anymore or I would have dropped it with a clatter since my hands are suddenly numb. I glance over at Cory - he still held the same expression, only his eyes held fondness and melancholy, as he stared right back at me - then I turned back at my cause of my unexpectedly accelerating heart.

Standing by the door of the garage was Riley, clutching on the phone with one hand, the other laid on her hip, and she was smiling widely, too brightly, at me but my eyes were settled on the woman entering the kitchen. She was dressed in a nicely pressed suit, very neat, very professional, and she looked exhausted but pleased as she dropped her briefcase on the floor with a definitive thud before she started to remove her heels.

When she stood straight, my breath hitched as her ocean blue eyes clashed with my striking ones and I thought I was going to faint because the strength of my knees were buckling away. She also seemed astonished to see me standing a few feet away from her, her plump lips parted slightly in disbelief, her eyes roaming over me quickly as if to absorb my very being, most likely trying to gathering her thoughts like scattered leaves. She never blinked. For the first time since I've known her, she actually looked afraid. Like she was harboring a hidden fear of the sight of me disappearing if she dared tear her eyes away from me for a second.

Time seem to have rewarded her with enhanced beauty. Her eyes, although worn around the edges with bags caused by stress and somewhat dull, still held the same wild inferno that could never be put out. Her face makes her age noticeable but she looked more like a distinct elegance, like a well-aged grace, with the small wrinkles carved in her forehead and faint laugh-lines around her delicate lips. Even her hair looked grand in a flair of faded brown waves and grey-ish roots.

She was an elder - a lovely, respected elder. One who I admired for her fierce attitude in one of the most difficult and risky careers to take in New York, who I take in the pleasure of looking up to even though she was just as short as me, who consumed me in the arms of a compassionate love that a pseudo mother could give to those who never knew what it was like, who understood the fear of abandonment because she grew up with that sense like me, and who encourages me to build up the strength through her perspective in me as a fierce amazon warrior.

Only I don't want to be a warrior - I didn't feel like one now. I just wanted to take advantage of the moment to be that little girl I was who was surrounded by cold nights and vacant rooms, knowing in the morning I was going to be welcomed by her warm hugs and wonderful meals. I want to pretend I am turning back the clock to the time when she was the only one in my world, when she had taken up the role of a guardian who wrapped me in blankets to keep me protected from frost bites in the winter, lay my head down on a fluffy pillow to have a peaceful rest in the middle of spring, read stories in the afternoon of summer so I could dream of imaginations I never knew could be possible, and grateful at the end of autumn with a delightful Thanksgiving dinner to remind me that not all the parts in the world is truly a bad place.

Her lips trembled but she was able to say a steady, "Maya…"

And I lost it right there; I flew across the room and I found myself caught in those two familiar, lovely arms of a woman who taught me to love myself. I heard my ragged sobs seeping onto her shoulders as the tears I didn't know were in my eyes have freed themselves onto my face and I nuzzled into the crook of her neck, feeling the locks of her hair brushing against my skin. I could feel her trembling as she held me tightly, selfishly, against her equally tiny frame with as much strength she could muster in her shocked state.

I hope I wasn't suffocating her with my own.

This hug transported back me back in time to the many ones we shared before; the comforting ones she gave me when I was insecure about my height and the one when I was somewhat depressed about the horrid triangle. The loving, protective one during New Years before high school. The genuine ones she would give before Riley and I would head off the school. The grateful ones she would share randomly whenever Riley or I learn a lesson from our mistakes. And the prideful one she did not want to let me go from after she heard that I managed to get a scholarship to college.

Out of all the thousand hugs we shared, this one is my favorite. Because we both needed it. She needed it to know I was real. I needed it to know I wasn't dreaming. We were both fierce warrior finally dropping our shield and letting down our swords to allow ourselves a moment of vulnerability towards each other because we are only human.

"Oh, Maya," she whispered, sniffling slightly. That was when I realized the nape of my neck was rather damp, my hair was sticking to my moist skin, and that she was silently crying. This is the first time I've ever seen her cry with the exception of graduation because what mother doesn't cry at those things?

"I missed you," I whimpered.

"I missed you too," she breathed softly. "I can't believe it - you're alive."

"I'm alive," I repeated. I wasn't sure if I was saying it for her or for me. It is still something that takes a while to sink in.

"I knew you would be," she said. "I knew you wouldn't leave us. You were putting up a big fight for so many years...I didn't believe it when the doctor said -"

"I know," I hushed her quietly; I could hear her voice losing its control. "I'm here now."

She strengthened her hold, pressing me tightly against her almost as if she is trying to merge us, and I could feel her frame shaking. I don't know if it was of anticipation or of relief. Either way, I took it.

I took everything this amazing human being had to offer. Her strength, her mind, and most importantly her heart. The very first heart of a mother I acknowledged when I felt I didn't have any and I was tangled in her strings, making it impossible for me to escape from what I denied I needed for so long.

Only this time I won't pretend I don't need her.

* * *

 **Please Review!**


	9. Chapter Eight: Savior

**A/N:** I do not own Girl Meets World, the characters, the locations, the songs, or the quotes mentioned. But I do own this plot.

* * *

Where did I go wrong?

I lost a friend

Somewhere along in the bitterness

And I would have stayed up with you all night

Had I known how to save a life

\- How To Save A Life; The Frat

* * *

 _"Life always promises to give the world a person to take away everything bad."_

― Eloise Dyson, Divided

* * *

 **Chapter Eight: Savior**

I knew I wasn't back to the way things were but I feel like we were back to those days full of simplicity where we would surround the dinner table, crowding over the bowls full of potato salad and gravy-covered turkey slices, trying to catch the last piece of pumpkin pie, and making a mess of the food rather than being able to sit down and enjoy it.

I was sitting next to my mother between two families; the Matthews and the Fishels. I didn't think I'd be in this spot in a thousand years. To be next to Riley's own family, her unofficial husband, and twins, and the same subordinate parents I've known for my whole life was odd. I can feel the tension Riley spoke about whenever Cory and Topanga are in the same room as the son of the woman who nearly ruined them. The air was stiff and suffocating but they kept their composure straight as they speak to him once in a while before Riley takes over the conversation.

My mother would talk to Topanga, probably to ease up things, and Cory would talk to Auggie as well, most likely to be distracted from Evan. There was no bad blood between those two, just awkwardness.

Dinner passed as pleasantly as it could. Everybody told me their stories of what they've done over the past twelve years and I nodded my head like a bobble-head with an attempted smile to conceal the feeling of despair gnawing inside of me as they spoke. They probably do know how bad it makes me feel but they don't say anything because they know I don't like pity and respect that. I never liked pity - even at my lowest point of life, I would lash out at anyone who tried to give it to me because I didn't want to feel any worse than I did - and they learned very well in the hardest way possible to never make me feel like I was getting any. Concern and comfort is allowed but never pity.

The twins had captured Auggie's attention to talk about the trivial 'injustice' of their school playground with some boy who picks his nose and eats paste. Cory and Evan tried to keep a civil conversation about some recipes that Evan came up with to add to his menu for his restaurant and Cory's idea to new teaching methods he decided to try with his new class of seventh graders. Riley and my mother were speaking about some of the gossip in their jobs - Riley wasn't looking for anything to scoop and mom wasn't dishing out any valuable information.

I was hearing to all three conversations but I wasn't particularly paying attention. There was a strange churning in my stomach that I am sure had nothing to do with the food. I decided to glance around the table, taking in the new faces of the same people I knew and some who I have yet to accept, absorbing in the changes and similarities altogether. Everybody looked happy - comfortable - natural - and I didn't. I did not show it but I really didn't feel it. I wish I could.

Absently, I played around with my lasagna rolls, wishing I could understand what it was that everyone was talking about, when for some reason I chose to look up again, and I caught myself in the gaze of Topanga Lawrence-Matthews. She was staring at me with this intense stare. She wasn't looking at me like she was trying to read the reaction of another culprit but as if she was trying to take in the very sight of me, like I was some mystical creature she couldn't really understand could exist. I suppose I am the same way with her - I've known her my whole life yet when I look at her, it's like she is a totally new person to me.

I give her a small smile, one for more assurance to her, to let her know it really was me who was sitting here, and after a while, she returned an easy smile back at me. That made me feel as normal as I could be now.

"Aunt Maya!" said Elle in her high pitch voice, making me cringe slightly at the ringing in my ear. She definitely is Riley's daughter.

"Elle, no shouting around the dinner table," said Evan in a warning tone. "Or anywhere in the house in general."

Elle smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, daddy."

Rubbing my sore ear, I glance over at the hyperactive child. "What is it, Elle?"

"Can I be you?" she answered. "I wanna be you for school."

"Uh," I was dumbfounded. I don't even know what she is talking about. "Why?"

Luckily Riley decided to step in at the moment. She looked highly amused by all of this.

"Once a month, their teacher would have the kids choose a person for a Hero Pageant. It's to help the kids grow their imagination and also learn about different professions. It's kind of like career day but without the heavy research. It's more for fun rather than learning," she explained. "In the end, everyone gets an award for participating. Last month it was - what was the prize, girls?"

"Cookies and bon bons!" both girls cheered happily at the same time. I can see now why they love to participate. I couldn't deny that seeing them act so in tune with each other with those toothless smiles and flushed faces really made me smile - it was very adorable.

"I see," I said with a chuckle but then I frowned in confusion. "But why do you wanna be me?"

"Momma told me you paint the world!" Elle said in exasperation with a wide smile and holding her arms out for dramatic effect. "You paint the sky - the flowers - everything - that is so cool! You're like a superhero!"

"Superheros have powers and save the world, El," said Penelope with a roll of her eyes. "Superman is a superhero."

"So is Aunt Maya," retorted Elle, turning to me with such confidence I ever seen a four year old hold. "I wanna be just like her. Can I be like you, Auntie?"

"Oh," I let out a weak chuckle, not knowing how to respond to this. I could feel the eyes of other staring at me, all in enjoyment. "Well...erm...that's nice of you, Elle, but...wouldn't you want to be your mother? Or maybe your grandma? I don't do much. I just...paint."

"I already did momma and granny," Elle replied. "And I don't wanna do daddy because he plays with knives and those scare me. I don't wanna be like other heroes because the other kids are doing them."

"Oh, well…" I hesitated. I honestly didn't know what to do.

"Why don't you be something more original, girls?" said Cory, puffing out his chest and jutting out his jaw. "Your grandpa is a principal and runs one of the most prestigious high schools in New York now. You don't need to be just a man to have high education like me."

"Boring!" whined Penelope, rolling her eyes. "I don't wanna be an old hag!"

I blinked, staring at my niece in surprise. She was pouting and crossed her arms, looking all disgruntled. I was pleased and amazed at how similar she is to me - I have been told by Riley on how much Penelope is like me when I was younger (or still am?) but it was uncanny how much of a replica she is of me.

"I'm not that old," Cory pouted.

"There's grey in your hair," Penelope pointed out. "You're a grandpa."

"Calm down, you two," said Topanga. "Once you start, you never stop bickering. That's the last thing we need right now."

Both Cory and Penelope quieted down as they went back to eating their meals, grumbling under their breaths. I shared a quick look with my mother and Riley. The three of us nodded.

"Picking your Auntie is a good choice to do, Elle," said my mother; I glanced at her in disbelief. "But look at what other options you have before you settle on Maya. There are loads of other heroes you can choose to be. You can pick any of them that you like and hasn't been chosen yet."

I looked at my mother gratefully. Elle seems to be considering her words as a look of contemplation fell over her adorable face.

"I guess so," she mumbled. "I don't wanna get in trouble for making a mess with paint. Penelope did that and she got sent to the naughty corner for that," she giggled as Penelope stuck her tongue out at her.

I smiled at them. They were like two little version of Riley and I when we were little.

"Take your time, pumpkin," said Evan with a charming smile. "And what about you, Penelope? Did you decide on what hero you're going to be this month?"

Penelope looked excited for a second before the smile dropped from her face and an uncomfortable frown replaced it as she lowered her head. I was confused at this. She looked so open and confident but now she was suddenly so reserved. If I'm not mistaken, she did look upset as well. What happened?

"Honey, what's the matter?" questioned Riley with a concerned frown. "If you haven't thought of anybody yet, you don't have to feel bad about it. There's a lot of heroes to be."

Penelope shook her head. "It's not that," she said lowly, sniffling slightly. My eyes widen a little in surprise when I spotted tear drops dripping down from the tip of her nose and before I knew what was happening, my body was in sudden motion as I went over to where she was sitting. I could see the others watching me whilst I kneeled next to her and brush back her hair from her face, revealing those little rivers flowing down on her blotched face.

"What's up, kiddo?" I asked softly. It really ached my heart to see this precious baby's fire be diminished by a simple question but I could understand her in that sense; I was the same way whenever someone mentioned Kermit or I see things that reminded me of him when I was younger and fragile.

"I...I…" she hiccuped. "I know w-who I...wanna b-be…"

I frowned. "Who is it?"

Penelope lets out a few choked sobs and sniffles while trying to wipe her moist face with the sleeve of her shirt. I did my best to comfort her in the best way I could by combing her hair back from her face and rubbing her back. I was not the best shoulder to cry on, especially to kids, but it is the most I could do to a child that is not mine.

"Uncle Luke," answered Penelope after a moment has passed.

I could hear Riley's intake of breath and the sighs of disappointment from Evan. Elle was patting her hand down on Penelope's arm. Topanga and my mother were staring at Penelope with sad eyes. Auggie had his lips pursed and his jaw was clenched. Cory had a blank expression for a minute before it broke with his eyes softening as he rose up from his chair, the legs scratching across the surface of the floor.

"I think dinner is over now," he declared. He went to lift Elle up in his arms and held her against his hip. "How about we go up to the game room and play a little bit of Mario Kart girls? Auggie?"

Auggie nodded. "Yeah. I brought some other games for us to play too."

Auggie got up to approach where Penelope and I were then picked up Penelope in his arms; she immediately wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder as she wailed out her sorrows. I watched after them as they all walked up the stairs leading to the second floor of the house, never moving from my spot. I wanted to go after them to help them feel Penelope and Elle better but I knew I wouldn't be doing much by just being there. I'm not good at being depended on.

"I'll clean up the table," said Evan as he began to collect the dishes into one stack in a swift motion. Guess that's a perk that comes from being a chef.

"I'll do the dishes," added Riley.

"Riley?" I said. I know she can tell what I wanted ask by the tone of my voice. I needed some answers.

Riley smiled sadly. "I'll explain later."

I shook my head. "You need to explain to me now."

Riley sighed. "Maya -"

"I've got this, Riley," Topanga chimed in. "You guys go ahead and clear up things. Can I have the key?"

Riley nodded with an appreciative smile then wordlessly walked out of the dining room and I glanced over at Topanga; she was not looking at me. She held a thoughtful look in her eyes and I knew I wasn't going to be able to get her to hear me - she would be sent to a faraway place in her mind when she is thinking thoroughly. A couple of minutes later, Riley came back and she handed Topanga a key with a Pikachu keychain attached.

"Thanks, mom," she said. She turned to me, gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, before she left the room again with Evan to wash the dishes.

"Are you sure, Topanga?" asked my mother.

Topanga nodded. "I'm sure. Besides, it's my turn to talk to Maya. You all had your moments with her." She smiled at me and I returned it without hesitation.

Mom noticed the exchange and nodded with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Topanga. I have to go and call Shawn anyway."

"Tell dad I said hi," I added.

"Of course."

Mom gives me a quick kiss on the forehead before she turned and walked on the same direction where Auggie and Cory left. I face Topanga to see her fingering the key that Riley gave her and looked at me with a slight smile as she held out her other hand to me. I took it without hesitation. I never think twice to take her hand - it's the same hand that welcomed me into a real home, made me real breakfast, real dinner, and held mine when I needed comfort.

She then turned to guide me to the further inside of the dining room and led me to a tapestry at the corner of the room. She released my hand to pull it back, surprising me to see a small staircase revealed behind the tapestry, the wooden stairs leading up to a lone, marble door at the top.

I glance over at Topanga, bewildered. She smiled and nodded her head to the staircase, indicating me to move along. With a quick breath, I wordlessly ascended the rickety staircase, keeping my eyes settled on the door ahead of me, watching as the light of the house fade away when Topanga close the tapestry behind us.

"This is Riley's private office," she explained softly. "She only goes up here when she's handling any business for her job and other things."

I peer back at her over my shoulder. "What other things?"

"I'll explain it to you when we get inside," she answered, holding up the silver key. "This is the only copy she has to the room because she doesn't want anybody else to see what she has inside."

"Am I expecting some sort of armory in there?"

"Not really - Evan is the one who owns a gun but don't let Riley know I told you that or mention it anywhere near Cory because he will flip if he knew."

I slowed a bit to let her walk up past me and ahead. I stopped a few steps below her as she moved over the landing and stuck the key in the keyhole, turning it slowly, listening to the clicks of the lock come undone. From the way how her posture seemed tense and hesitant, I was becoming anxious to see what was on the other side of that marvelously carved door. It is rare to see Topanga seem out of her element.

"Why does Evan own a gun?" I asked, astonished. I didn't like the idea of Riley or the children being under the same room with a gun.

"For protection," she said. "A few years ago, someone tried to break into their home and that really shook up Riley that she couldn't sleep well anymore. Evan got a better security system and the gun is more like a backup plan in case someone manages to get past the system. He hasn't used it once in his life. And Riley is actually a lot more relaxed knowing Evan has a gun so you don't need to worry about her, Maya - she's safe."

Topanga pushed the door open, the hinges creaking slightly, and stepped inside the dark room. I followed her closely, feeling a sense of anticipation crawl up on my spine as I find myself surrounded by pitch black darkness, the only thing visible is the dim light shining through the thin tapestry below us. Then Topanga closed the door behind me and clapped loudly.

Soon, the dark was overtaken by a radiant glow of an elegant chandelier overhead, the small bulbs glistening out a golden light that shone like tiny suns around us and giving me a clear view of the room. It was a cozy area; the walls were paneled in dark wood, towered over by tall bookshelves that reached the high ceiling and carried books updated to the latest volume. A huge mahogany desk was placed by the east wall, in front of a large map of the United States marked by several thumbsticks and a red string connected to all of them, and a fireplace that I assume was recently lit up since the wood were scorched black. There were also cabinets stacked around the desk, labeled and color coordinated, and on the west side of the room were long leather sofas by a low table, each placed on the sides of another door.

I whistle in amazement. "Seems like Riley likes to keep herself busy. Guess she got that from you."

"Like mother, like daughter," Topanga smiled proudly.

"She must be loaded too," I added. "To have all of this? It must have cost a fortune."

"Well, she isn't exactly Bill Gates or Jeff Bezoz wealthy but she's financially secure thanks to her job," Topanga said. "She makes almost sixty thousand a month with all of her copies being sold over the world and the amount of hours she works herself through."

I gawked at her. "Sixty thousand?"

"Yeah, but that's not what we're here for."

I raised a questionable brow at her as Topanga strides over to the mysterious door on the west side of the room and casually opens it like she owned the room. I am beginning to ponder on why everybody has been so vague with me lately when I ask them something about their lives. Right now, all I wanted to know was what was wrong with Penelope and why she reacted the way she did when it came to Lucas. I know Topanga is going to explain to me but I was getting slightly impatient while I watched her disappear in the small closet for a few minutes and then came back out holding a stack of two small boxes in her arms.

My breath hitched as I read the dark marking written on them; _**Lucas' Things.**_

Topanga set them on the low table, blowing away the small layer of dust that was covering the top, and then gestured me to come sit next to her on one of the sofas. I complied, stuck in a trance at the boxes.

"Riley had this room secretly made the same time she and Evan had decided to buy the house," she explained as she opened one of the boxes. "Of course, she had it made so she could have some time to herself when she brings her work home with her and get them done quicker but she really had this place built so she could look over old memories and think to herself. When it came to you and Lucas, she wasn't exactly the same open book as we all used to know and she'd lock herself up in her room for hours just to look over the times she had with the both of you."

She had brought out a stack of old photographs, all tied together by a thin string, and placed it on the sofa between us before she went back to rummaging through the box.

"I'm assuming she already told you about everything that's happened between her and Lucas," she said.

I pursed my lips and nodded. "Every detail."

"Well, during the time when she and Lucas tried to make their relationship work out, they exchanged a lot of things between them and Riley kept them because they reminded her of a happier time she had with him and to see if maybe she could be happy with him like that again only as a friend," she said as she pulled out another stack only it was a bunch of envelopes, all opened, but kept neat. "These are the letters Lucas sent to Riley before things between them dwindled."

"I thought they called each other."  
"Only through video call and if Lucas was allowed to. The majority of the time, they'd send each other letters because it was a safer way to communicate."

I tentatively took the first envelope of the stack and pulled out the nicely folded letter inside it, discarding the envelope to the side. When I opened it, I immediately knew it was Lucas' because of the recognizable handwriting and as I began to read through his words, I figured this was the final letter Lucas has ever written in an attempt to communicate with Riley again. It read:

 _Riley,_

 _This is going to be my last letter. After this I won't be having a PO Box anymore._

 _I just wanted to let you know that I am sorry for the way I ended things between us. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did with you. It isn't your fault that you moved on from something we had since middle school because you grew up unlike me. I shouldn't have said what I said. The time I spent with you wasn't wasted at all. You were worth every minute of the day we were together. I should be grateful of you for trying to make things work for us but instead I let you down when you needed me the most and I'm sorry for hurting you the way I did, Riley._

 _We are all going through a difficult time with Maya being in a coma. Mostly you. And for me to do what I did just added more fuel to the flame and I could never forgive myself for doing that. I felt that I failed you, that I failed all of you, for the way I behaved. You needed everybody you love close to you for moral support and to help you get through this and I did what I did. That made me realise I really don't deserve you and I am glad for you for falling for another guy who makes you happy. Even happier than you were with me and is helping you fight through this._

 _I just wanted to let you know that I'm not upset with you. That I'm completely fine with the idea of you being with someone else. You needed that little sense of peace in your life, a little bit of a safe haven to be in, while Maya was away for a while. You needed that and I couldn't give it to you like he did. Maya was stuck in a coma because of a terrorist attack and the possibilities of her waking up seem slim according to the doctors. Nobody knows how long it will be for her to finally wake up again and it must hurt you too much. If this guy helps you become stronger, better, feel safer, and keep your hope then I am happy for you._

 _I am sorry. So, so sorry._

 _I also wanted you to know that I'm not cancelling my PO Box because of you. I'm doing it because I have to. I have my reasons. I want you to understand but I need to handle some things on my own as well. I promise things are okay between us._

 _I'll still be around to keep track of everyone and their lives because you all are still my friends and I still care so much about you all._

 _Take care of yourself, Riley._

 _Sincerely, Lucas_

I bit my lip. I could hear the remorse in the words. I ran my fingers across the paper sheet, feeling the dents of where he had pressed the pen too hard that it might have broken through. I could almost picture him when he wrote this - constantly running his hands over his face as he thought of the right words to say, re-reading his previous letters for help, pulling his hair in frustration, and possibly breaking his pen because that would explain the ink splatters. I could even see the frown of disappointment and the heartbreak in his eyes.

Lucas was never really a subtle person when it comes to his emotions. His eyes were a complete giveaway. When he's happy, his eyes become two bright emeralds that look like they have sunshine reflecting off of them; when he's sad, the light would dim from his gaze; when he's angry, the color from his eyes would blacken and be shut off completely from any sense of emotion.

But right here, right now, I can see he was very vulnerable and that is rare to see coming from Lucas himself.

"Riley hasn't opened this," I stated as I folded the letter and stuffed it back in the envelope. "Why hasn't she opened this?"

Topanga frowned. "Riley was scared that it could be Lucas telling her how much he hated her and she didn't want that to be her last memory of him as that. There are a couple of times she tried to read it but ends up putting it back in the pile."

I handed her the envelope and she went to put it back in the box. She then rummaged through the stuff inside before she pulled out a small photo album. She opened it to flip through a few pages until she reaches a specific page that reads _**LUCAS MEMORIES**_ and then places the book on my lap. I wordlessly went through the pages, a pinch of nostalgia and melancholy, as I looked at the thousand pictures of Lucas. A small portion of me was proud that Riley finally finished the scrapbook she has been working on since junior year.

Photographs of Lucas' milestones in life are seen in four photographs per page. I could see young Lucas wearing his uniforms for basketball, football, and baseball from freshman year to senior year; young Lucas opening his acceptance letter to college, young Lucas wearing his prom tuxedo, and young Lucas wearing his graduation robes. A tiny smile was formed on my lips as I saw the other pictures of him volunteering at the animal shelter on Broadway, of him laughing with Billy Ross, an old teammate and friend since middle school, and the time when he and Zay went back to Texas for the weekend for the renewal of vows of his parents, wearing his red flannel shirt tucked in his jeans along with a pair of his cowboy boots and his hat on his head.

Then when I flipped to the last page of Lucas' memories, my smile dropped at the only picture pasted on the sheet. It was the last picture Riley owned of Lucas; he was saluting in his Navy Seals fatigues. He wasn't smiling. He had his lips in a thin line. And his eyes didn't have any emotion in them but they did have a wildfire containing in them. His face looked mature with the tiny scruffs of hair around his jaw and cheek. He looked worn and battered yet the spirit in him seemed more alive than he looked.

"He really went to war," I whispered. I've heard the stories but to see the pictures as actual proof was very disbelieving. "I didn't want to believe it but...wow…"

"That's the last photo Riley got from Lucas," Topanga said. "She showed this picture to the girls whenever they ask for stories about their uncles and aunts. Elle loves listening to Farkle's artifact expeditions, Smackle's scientific discoveries, Zay's creative broadway shows but she didn't like hearing about Lucas being in the Navy Seals because she doesn't like violence. Penelope loves all of her aunts and uncles but she always asks about Lucas the most."

I watch as Topanga took the picture of Lucas in his fatigues and gave it to me. My fingers tremble slightly as I held it.

"Penelope may have some stubborn qualities from her mother but she also inherited her sensitivity," she explained. "Penelope thought of Lucas as her 'cool uncle' because he was a soldier and always wanted to know more about him. She gets sad that she never gets to see him. One time, Cory was babysitting the girls and he had fallen asleep with the TV on and Penelope had woken up to Saving Private Ryan. Ever since then, she believed that Lucas had died in war even though everyone tells her that he isn't."

I frowned. "That's sad," I said while thinking, _Way to go, Matthews_. I hand flip the picture to see a small message written on the back along with the date.

 _I'm always here even when you don't see me. 2022_

"And he just disappeared," I murmured.

"He doesn't want to be found," Topanga answered. "I've tried all I could in my power to find him but I had no luck. His parents don't know where he is - his comrades haven't heard a thing from him - nothing. He is completely off the grid. We couldn't even trace his cell phone even if we tried."

"But why doesn't he want to be found?" I pondered. "I don't see why he wants to stay away from everybody. I thought he would want to be around the people he cared about."

"Everybody thought the same thing," Topanga said. "But we will never understand. We can only hope where he is that he has found peace in mind and will let himself be found one day when he wants to be."

Silently, I nodded whilst I kept looking at the photograph of Lucas. I really hoped that where he is that he is okay and that he comes home to where he really belongs. He had spent six years on active duty to protect his nation, to protect his family and friends against terrorists, but he doesn't come home after the war. It was selfish as well. His parents waited for so long for him to return safely from all the possible death ends and the killing and everything that comes when involved in a war.

"Riley should read that letter," I said. "She should know what he really told her. She needs to know he's not angry with her anymore."

Topanga smiled solemnly. "She'll read it when she's ready. I'll let her know that there's nothing bad but she'll read it when she feels like it."

I nodded. "It's really hard to believe all of this is happening," I said. "Riley having children and being engaged - Farkle and Smackle in London - mom being a manager for celebrities - dad being a photographer for my favorite band - Zay being a single parent and a director for a broadway show - Lucas is gone - the only thing that seems normal is you and Matthews and Auggie, and that's a surprise."

Topanga gave me a small smile before holding out her arm to me and I instinctively lean into her side embrace, resting my head on her shoulder.

"I hate that this happened to you the most," she said softly into my ear. "I know that it's still a lot to take you with the change of relationships and lives but you are still the same fierce amazon warrior I know and I know you will get through this. You've dealt through a lot that would have knocked a person down but you still managed to stay on your feet and as far as many wouldn't have tried to get to. This is another bump on the road - it's huge and unexpected - but you will definitely make it."

"I hope so," I mumbled. I started to twiddle my thumbs. "I can barely keep up with what's going on right now. Last thing I remember is packing up for college and getting ready to go to California - Riley was going to Princeton - Zay and Lucas already left to Texas for Rice University - Smackle and Farkle left for London - Auggie was about to start the fourth grade - now I suddenly wake up one day and all of this is happening."

"I know, sweetie," Topanga said. "I know it's not easy to live your life the way it is now when you don't know how to live it now but you need to remember what I told you twelve years ago; no matter how alone you may seem, you never really are."

I licked my lips and sniffled. The back of my eyes were stinging a little bit, tears threatening to form over my eyelids but I managed to blink them back and swiped the back of my hand under my nose even though nothing was dripping.

"But I do feel alone," I admitted with a tiny pout. "Everybody is still ahead of their time meanwhile I'm still stuck in two thousand and nineteen."

"Oh honey," Topanga wrapped both arms around me and gave me a firm yet gentle squeeze, pressing our cheeks together. "You're never gonna be left behind. We won't let you. We'll help you get ahead of things and get back on track and learn all the new things. We didn't leave you when you were in a coma and we certainly won't leave you now. We're here with you every step of the way."

I bit my lip and nodded before I buried my face in her mass of wavy girls as she rubbed my back and shoulders in a comforting manner. I tied my arms around her middle while she began to rock us lightly to the sides and moved one hand to gently stroke my hair.

"Everything's going to be okay," she whispered.

I stayed silent, trying to keep my breath steady. I closed my eyes while I focused on her even pulse and feel her breath flow through the locks of my hair close to my roots. I released a sigh at the familiar sensation of being in the arms of a motherly embrace of a nurturing woman who gave me a chance to experience this when I didn't have one.

"We should go back," I insisted softly. "They're probably wondering what's taking us so long."

"I'm pretty sure the twins are wondering where you are more than me," she chuckled. "Riley talked a lot about you and now that they met you, they're gonna wanna play with you all the time now."

I grinned. "So I'm the shiny new toy."

"Let's hope they don't break your limbs. They're still learning how to share and it hasn't been a steady process."

I shuddered. "Oooh…"

* * *

I sat on the green bean bag in the enormous game room, watching Elle and Penelope play Wii X Sports on the flat screen television screen with Auggie pretending to be the referee on the side whilst he was texting on his phone. I have no doubt he was probably texting Ava. It was so weird seeing him with a phone - he used to have a child restricted iPad when he was younger and played those children games. Now he has unrestrained control of his own cell phone and able to search through any website.

I watch as Penelope and Elle 'run' on the wireless playmate, trying to advance the other in the race they're competing on in the virtual Olympic track. Sometimes they would slip off the mat whenever they try to jump a hurdle but would tip over when they stick the landing. They clearly inherited their parent's coordination skill - meaning Riley's klutziness and Evan's competitiveness. I assume they watched the videos of her Riley trying out for the cheerleading team and her endless spirit to continue on even when she failed. I don't know much about Evan but listening to some stories about him during dinner, he has been in very competitive teams so the attitude stuck by him.

But it was quite a sight to see. Two identical sisters having a great time together in a game where they go against each other. It reminds me of the times Riley and I would play Guitar Hero in Farkle's home - she would play the guitar and I would play the drums. I was never a fan of sports and such, even when Riley tried to persuade me to try for cheerleading as well. Physical competitions weren't exactly my forte with all the screaming students and loud horns being blown to show the 'school spirit' but it was just irritating to me. I liked the art competitions, the theater shows, and the musical concerts I attended because only the people I care about are coming instead of a bunch of idiotic people who don't really know me.

The others are downstairs in the kitchen. I wasn't really certain what they were talking about. I part of me believe the majority of their conversation must involve me but I keep on telling myself, trying to delude myself, that they were speaking on something else - bills, taxes, the kids. But I know better than that. I can only hope that Topanga hasn't said a thing about our conversation aside from the letter Lucas wrote to Riley.

I was considering to join the twins in the video game when a set of footsteps was heard behind me and a second later, there was a delicate glass filled with scotch and a soda dangling in front of my face. I look up to see Riley's beaming smile glowing down at me and her doe eyes lit up with that same light I loved radiating around me since I was six.

"Thanks, Honey," I said gratefully.

Riley settled herself in the red bean bag beside me, leaning a little towards me by her elbow, and took a sip of her red wine..

"It's really entertaining watching them compete, isn't it?" she said. "It's like watching a child playing in front of a mirror."

"Yeah," I chuckled before taking a sip of my beverage.

We sat in silence for a few minutes, watching Penelope continue to run circles around Elle in the game. Penelope was giggling at Elle as she made her avatar skip teasingly from behind Elle's avatar, having already run a lap ahead of hers. Auggie was still on his phone but he had his headphones on this time.

"How are you holding up?" Riley asked softly.

"Pretty good," I said. "After the talk I had with your mom, I feel a little better. She told me some things about the girls and showed me your office - this place is a lot bigger than I thought."

Riley smiled bashfully. "Yeah," she responded. "I went a bit too overboard with the interior designing. I guess I knew at some point I was going to bring my work home with me so I added my office. The game room was Evan's idea so he could have his nights with the guys here to play poker or my nights with my co-workers or for the girls to do what they're doing right now. When they're older, they can use this room for their sleepovers with their friends and such."

"I like it," I added. "Sure, it's not as big as Farkle's house was where a train can run inside or have a gift shop in another room but I still like it. It's neutral."

"Thanks, Peaches."

I shift my weight a little to the side, leaning towards her like she is to me while my eyes are still settled on the competitive twins.

"So your mom explained to me why Penelope gets so sad about Lucas," I spoke.

Riley frowned. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." I gazed over at the little identical menace. "Do you ever wonder why Lucas disappeared in the first place? It's unlike him to want to stay away from his family."

"I don't know," Riley sighed. "I can only hope that he appears again one day and that everything goes back to normal again. I really want him to be able to meet the girls because I know they would love him so much and he would be a great uncle to them."

"I know, Honey. I'm sure he will show up again."

I have a terrible urge to slip out the envelope I have hidden in my pocket and hand it to her, to let her know that it wasn't her fault that Lucas was gone or that he wasn't angry at her for having the life he dreamed for them with someone else. She needed to know the truth after all. She was afraid that she might learn that Lucas hates her when in reality he has already moved on from their past relationship as well and still cares about her.

"I hope so," Riley said. "It might sound odd but it is a little too quiet without you two bantering all the time."

"Ehh, I wouldn't call it bantering," I smirked. "More like playfully riling each other up and seeing who will cave first. It was a game."

"That's a pretty loud game you two played."

"And I still manage to win it at every round."

The two of us laughed lowly among each other, our tittering capturing the attention of the twins. They left their game altogether to run up to us and jump onto us on the bean bags, making me grunt in pain under Elle's collision but Riley laugh even more giddily as she captures Penelope in her arms, tickling her sides. I'm surprised that neither of our drinks had spilled.

"Auntie, momma, play with us?" asked Elle.

"Please?" Penelope batted her eyes at us. She looked a lot better than she did an hour ago.

"Oh, sweetheart, you know I'm not good at these games," Riley said.

"And I just don't want to," I added.

"Aw, c'mon! Please!" whined Penelope, her desperation illuminating beneath the setting sun's light. She snuggled closer to into Riley's embrace while looking up at her with puppy eyes and Elle copied her, leaning closer to her mother.

Riley glanced at me. "Do you want to play?"

"No," I groaned, tilting my head back. "I'm lazy."

"C'mon, Auntie," Elle pleaded as she began to grab me by the arm and shook me lightly.

"Hey, you're gonna drop my drink," I warned.

"How about you girls finish this game and we'll play the next?" Riley suggested. "Nobody still hasn't won yet in this one."

The twins looked at each other for a moment before she shot up to their feet and raced back to the game. Riley and I glanced at each other with dubious looks before we burst out into a laughing fit.

"Unbelievable," I chortled.

"I consider this a good day where they actually listen to me," Riley said. "On most days, they keep on badgering me until I cave in or they don't sync well and fight with each other for 'bothering' me. So far they've been well-behaved."

"Don't jinx it," I murmured before I took another sip from my drink.

"Maya, it's me," Riley retorted. "Everything gets jinxed around me."

"Can't argue with that."

Riley lets out a breathless laugh with a look of disbelief and gives me a light shove to the shoulder, almost making me tip over my drink. I smirk at her and then sip my scotch and soda once again. From the corner of my eye, I could see Auggie rising up from his spot nearby the girls and started to make his way towards me, his eyes still glued to the screen of his phone. I held my foot out to him, making him bump into the sole of my shoes and halting on the spot, while I arched my brow at him.

"Watch where you're going there, Auggs," I said even though I know he couldn't hear me with his headphone on.

An excited smile stretched on his young face as he plucked his ear pieces off. "I got something really good to show you, Maya," he said. His deep voice still leaves me shook. I don't think I'll ever get used to it.

"And what could possibly be better than the intoxicating substance I hold in my hand?" I challenged, swirling the liquid in my glass and taking another sip for emphasis, releasing a sigh of satisfaction.

Auggie unplugs his headphone from his phone and presses the volume button on the side. I peer over at Riley to see her taking a rather long sip of her wine while looking up at Auggie with knowing eyes which left me baffled.

"Can you hear me better?" Auggie asked but it wasn't directed towards me or Riley. He was looking at his phone screen.

"Wha -"

"Yeah, I can hear you better now," said a voice coming from the small speaker of the phone.

I nearly dropped my glass and I would have if Riley hadn't taken it from me. I think she anticipated this kind of reaction from me. I can tell Auggie certainly did because he was now looking at me with a fond smile and sweet eyes as he watched me register what I had heard. I couldn't believe it. I quickly shot up - at least, as quickly as I could from that large bean bag - and snatched the phone from Auggie's hands, almost exasperated.

"Maya…"

If it was humanly possible, the sound of the twins, of the video game, all became background noise and the only sound I could hear is my heartbeat drumming in my ears. The colors of the room around me have all dissipated into a dull gray in my eyes but the person who I am now looking at, right here in the screen of the phone that is in my hand, remains in color, fresh and bold and bright just like his mind and heart. Time stopped; everyone else was still and faded but he wasn't - he was moving and outstanding.

"Maya…" he repeated my name. Only this time he said in a way that sounded like a confirmation, like he was now believing what he was seeing, who he was looking at. His eyes were wide and glassy, glints of shock and surprise gleaming off of his crystal blue eyes.

I managed to let out a small, weak, "Hey."

A smile slowly appears on his charming face the same time as the tears in his eyes finally fall over his face, dripping down to his sharp jaw. He ran a hand over his face, wiping away his tears, but the smile never leaves. If anything, it became brighter and wider. It was so infectious that I couldn't help but return it and my vision blurred slightly.

I honestly could not believe that who I am starring at is the same guy I've known my whole life. The last time I saw him was the day he was packing up for college and I had assisted him to the airport with the others to tell him goodbye and good luck. Now I'm seeing him again for the first time in twelve years. He was now wearing a V-neck shirt instead of a turtleneck sweater, his hair was cut clean and neat instead of that shaggy bowl-cut, but he still held the same smile and adoring eyes I've grown to not be able to live without.

The tear fell on my face but I didn't care. I was happy. He may not be right here in person where I could trap him in a bone-crushing hug and soak his shirt with my tears of joy but he was still here. I never knew how much I really wanted to see him until right now. I am looking at him and he is looking at me, both of our eyes carrying the same amount of elation upon seeing each other after so long.

For a moment, we stared at each other, breathing unevenly, watery chuckles passing from our lips once in a while, as we took in everything we see on each other. Then he rubbed his entire sleeve over his face, below his nose, and then gives me another tender smile. I didn't bother to clean my face - I was too engrossed at the man in front of me, absorbing the little yet big changes I could spot on his face.

"Lady," he breathed out. My heart burst in absolute bliss. He hasn't changed. Physically he was gone but internally, spiritually, he was still the same caring genius and supportive best friend I've loved, protected, and toughened up from many years ago.

And I couldn't help but laugh, shaking my head. He seem to be pleased to hear such a sound come out of me because his face softened and a new set of fresh tears formed in his eyes but they haven't fallen.

"You never change a thing," I said. "Do you, Farklestein?"

And I wanted him to know how much of a relief that was to me. He will never know how much this sense of comfort is actually saving me from falling into the great abyss of insanity.

* * *

 **A/N:**

If some of you hadn't caught it, there was a link in this chapter to the episode Girl Meets Maya's Mother between Riley and Maya. In the episode, Maya and Riley have a paint fight over Riley meddling into Maya's relationship with her mother; Maya covers Riley in **green** **paint** , Riley covers Maya in **red** **paint**. In this chapter, Maya is sitting on a **green bean bag** and Riley is sitting on a **red bean bag**.

Little links like this will happen. Keep your eyes peeled for them. Also, thank you so much for being patient for this chapter upload. Whether you had forgotten about this story or waited for an update, if you came back then I appreciate it. Thank you for coming this far with me. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

 **Please Review!**


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